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F7i 


To 

GEORGE  BUTLER, 

IN  TOKEN  OP 

A  FBISNDSHIF  WHICH  COUMSNCED  THIKTT-SEVEN  TEARS  A€K>, 

WHEN  Mm  WEEE  ELECTED  TOGETHER  FELLOWS  OF  OUB  COLLEai, 

WHICH  HAS  QEOWN  WITH  OUR  INCREASING  AGE, 

AND  WHX  CONTINUE,  I  HOPE,  UNBROKEN 

▲■  MNG  AS  WE  BOTH  SHALL  UYB. 


5;89 


\ 


PREFACE. 


I  HAVE  called  this  work  a  "  sketch  "  because  the 
materials  do  not  exist  for  a  portrait  which  shall  be 
at  once  authentic  and  complete.  The  original  au- 
thorities which  are  now  extant  for  the  life  of  Caesar 
are  his  own  writings,  the  speeches  and  letters  of 
Cicero,  the  eighth  book  of  the  "  Commentaries  '*  on 
the  wars  in  Gaul  and  the  history  of  the  Alexandrian 
war,  by  Aulus  Hirtius,  the  accounts  of  the  African 
war  and  of  the  war  in  Spain,  composed  by  persons 
who  were  unquestionably  present  in  those  two  cam- 
paigns. To  these  must  be  added  the  "  Leges  Juliae  " 
which  are  preserved  in  the  Corpus  Juris  Civilis. 
Sallust  contributes  a  speech,  and  Catullus  a  poem. 
A  few  hints  can  be  gathered  from  the  Epitome  of 
Livy  and  the  fragments  of  Varro ;  and  here  the  con- 
temporary sources  which  can  be  entirely  depended 
upon  are  brought  to  an  end. 

The  secondary  group  of  authorities  from  which 
the  popular  histories  of  the  time  have  been  chiefly 
taken  are  Appian,  Plutarch,  Suetonius,  and  Dion 
Cassius.  Of  these  the  first  three  were  divided  from 
the  period  which  they  describe  by  nearly  a  century 
and  a  half,  Dion  Cassius  by  more  than  two  centuries. 


viii  Preface, 

They  had  means  of  knowledge  which  no  longer  exist 
—  the  writings,  for  instance,  of  Asinius  PoUio,  who 
was  one  of  Caesar's  officers.  But  Asinius  Pollio's 
«^ccounts  of  Csesar's  actions,  as  reported  by  Appian, 
nannot  always  be  reconciled  with  the  Commentaries ; 
and  all  these  four  writers  relate  incidents  as  facts 
which  are  sometimes  demonstrably  false.  Suetonius 
is  apparently  the  most  trustworthy.  His  narrative, 
like  those  of  his  contemporaries,  was  colored  by 
tradition.  His  biographies  of  the  earlier  Csesars 
betray  the  same  spirit  of  animosity  against  them 
which  taints  the  credibility  of  Tacitus,  and  prevailed 
for  so  many  years  in  aristocratic  Roman  society. 
But  Suetonius  shows  nevertheless  an  effort  at  ve- 
racity, an  antiquarian  curiosity  and  diligence,  and  a 
serious  anxiety  to  tell  his  story  impartially.  Sueto- 
nius, in  the  absence  of  evidence  direct  or  presump- 
tive to  the  contrary,  I  have  felt  myself  able  to  fol- 
low. The  other  three  writers  I  have  trusted  only 
when  I  have  found  them  partially  confirmed  by  evi- 
dence which  is  better  to  be  relied  upon. 

The  picture  which  I  have  drawn  will  thus  be 
found  deficient  in  many  details  which  have  passed 
into  general  acceptance,  and  I  have  been  unable  to 
claim  for  it  a  higher  title  than  that  of  an  outline 
drawing. 


CONTENTS. 


CHAPTER  I. 

Free  Constitutions  and  imperial  tendencies.  —  Instructive- 
ness  of  Roman  history.  — Character  of  historical  epochs. 

—  The  age  of  Caesar.  —  Spiritual  state  of  Rome.  —  Con- 
trasts between  ancient  and  modern  civilization    ....       1 

CHAPTER  n. 

The  Roman  Constitution.  —  Moral  character  of  the  Romans. 

—  Roman  religion.  —  Morality  and  intellect.  —  Expansion 
of  Roman  power.  —  The  Senate.  —  Roman  slavery.  — 
Effects  of  intercourse  with  Greece.  —  Patrician  degener- 
acy.—  The  Roman  noble.  —  Influence  of  wealth.  —  Be- 
ginnings of  discontent 9 

CHAPTER  m. 

Tiberius  Gracchus.  —  Decay  of  the  Italian  yeomanry.  — 
Agrarian  law.  —  Success  and  murder  of  Gracchus  —  Land 
commission.  —  Caius  Gracchus.  —  Transfer  of  judicial 
functions  from  the  Senate  to  the  Equites.  —  Sempronian 
laws.  —  Free  grants  of  corn.  —  Plans  for  extension  of  the 
franchise.  —  New  colonies.  —  Reaction.  —  Murder  of  Caius 
Gracchus 28 

CHAPTER  IV. 

Victory  of  the  Optimates.  —  The  Moors.  —  History  of  Ju- 
gurtha.  —  The  Senate  corrupted.  —  Jugurthine  war.  — 
Defeat  of  the  Romans.  —  Jugurtha  comes  to  Rome. — 
Popular  agitation.  —  The  war  renewed.  —  Roman  defeats 
in  Africa  and  Gaul.  —  Caecilius  Metellus  and  Caius  Ma- 
rius.  —  Marriage  of  Marius.  —  The  Csesars.  —  Marius  con- 
sul. —  First  notice  of  Sylla  —  Capture  and  death  of  Ju- 
j?nrtha 33 


X  Contents. 

CHAPTER  V. 

PAOI 

Birth  of  Cicero.  —  The  Cimbri  and  Teutons. —  German  im- 
migration into  Gaul.  —  Great  defeat  of  the  Romans  on 
the  Rhone.  —  Wanderings  of  the  Cimbri.  —  Attempted 
invasion  of  Italy.  —  Battle  of  Aix.  —  Destruction  of  the 
Teutons.  —  Defeat  of  the  Cimbri  on  the  Po.  —  Reform  in 
the  Roman  army. — Popular  disturbances  in  Rome. — 
Murder  of  Memmius.  —  Murder  of  Saturninus  and  Glaucia     46 

CHAPTER  YI. 

Birth  and  childhood  of  Julius  Cassar.  —  Italian  franchise.  — 
Discontent  of  the  Italians.  —  Action  of  the  land  laws.  — 
The  social  war.  —  Partial  concessions.  —  Sylla  and  Ma- 
rius.  —  Mithridates  of  Pontus. — First  mission  of  Sylla 
into  Asia 55 

CHAPTER  VH. 

vVar  with  Mithridates.  —  Massacre  of  Italians  in  Asia.  — 
Invasion  of  Greece. — Impotence  and  corruption  of  the 
Senate.  —  End  of  the  social  war.  —  Sylla  appointed  to  the 
Asiatic  command.  —  The  Assembly  transfer  the  command 
to  Marius.  —  Sylla  marches  on  Rome.  —  Flight  of  Ma- 
rius,  —  Change  of  the  Constitution.  —  Sylla  sails  for  the 
East.  —  Four  years'  absence.  —  Defeat  of  Mithridates.  — 
Contemporary  incidents  at  Rome.  —  Counter  revolution. 

—  Consulship  of  Cinna.  —  Return  of  Marius.  —  Capitula- 
tion of  Rome.  —  Massacre  of  patricians  and  equites. — 
Triumph  of  Democracy 65 

CHAPTER  VIII. 

The  young  Cassar.  —  Connection  with  Marius.  —  Intimacy 
with  the  Ciceros.  —  Marriage  of  Caesar  with  the  daughter 
of  Cinna.  —  Sertorius.  —  Death  of  Cinna.  —  Consulships 
of  Norbanus  and  Scipio.  —  Sylla' s  return.  —  First  appear- 
ance of  Pompey.  —  Civil  war.  —  Victory  of  Sylla.  —  The 
dictatorship  and  the  proscription.  —  Destruction  of  the 
popular  party  and  murder  of  the  popular  leaders.  —  Gen- 
eral character  of  aristocratic  revolutions.  —  The  Constitu- 
tion remodelled.  —  Concentration  of  power  in  the  Senate. 

—  Sylla's  general  policy.  —  The  army.  —  Flight  of  Serto- 


Contents.  xi 

PA«a 
rius  to  Spain.  —  Pompey  and  Sjlla.  —  Caesar  refuses  to 
divorce  his  wife  at  Sylla's  order.  —  Danger  of  Caesar.  — 
His   pardon. —  Growing  consequence   of  Cicero.  —  De- 
fence of  Roscius.  —  Sylla's  abdication  and  death      ...     76 

CHAPTER  IX. 

Sertorius  in  Spain.  —  "Warning  of  Cicero  to  the  patricians. 

—  Leading  aristocrats.  —  Caesar  with  the  army  in  the 
East.  — Nicomedes  of  Bithynia.  —  The  Bithynian  scan- 
dal. —  Conspiracy  of  Lepidus.  —  Caesar  returns  to  Rome. 

—  Defeat  of  Lepidus.  —  Prosecution  of  Dolabella. —  Cae- 
sar taken  by  pirates.  —  Senatorial  corruption.  —  Universal 
disorder.  —  Civil  war  in  Spain.  —  Growth  of  Mediterra- 
nean piracy.  —  Connivance  of  the  Senate.  —  Provincial 
administration.  —  Verres  in'  Sicily.  —  Prosecuted  by  Cic- 
ero. —  Second  war  with  Mithridates.  —  First  success  of 
LucuUuS.  —  Failure  of  Lucullus,  and  the  cause  of  it.  — 
Avarice  of  Roman  commanders.  —  The  gladiators.  —  The 
Servile  War.  —  Results  of  the  change  in  the  Constitution 
introduced  by  Sylla 99 

.      CHAPTER  X. 

Caesar  military  tribune.  —  Becomes  known  as  a  speaker.  — 
Is  made  quaestor.  —  Speech  at  his  aunt's  funeral.  —  Con- 
sulship of  Pompey  and  Crassus.  —  Caesar  marries  Pom- 
pey's  cousin.  —  Mission  to  Spain.  —  Restoration  of  the 
powers  of  the  tribunes,  —  The  Equites  and  the  Senate.  — 
The  pirates.  —  Food  supplies  cut  off  from  Rome.  —  The 
Gabinian  law.  —  Resistance  of  the  patricians.  —  Suppres- 
sion of  the  pirates  by  Pompey.  —  The  Manilian  law.— 
Speech  of  Cicero.  —  Recall  of  Lucullus.  —  Pompey  sent 
'o  command  in  Asia.  —  Defeat  and  death  of  Mithridates. 
•- Conquest  of  Asia  by  Pompey 120 

CHAPTER  XL 

History  of  Catiline.  —  A  candidate  for  the  consulship.  — 
Catiline  and  Cicero.  —  Cicero  chosen  consul.  —  Attaches 
himself  to  the  senatorial  party.  —  Caesar  elected  aedile.  — 
Conducts  an  inquiry  into  the  Syllan  proscriptions. — 
Prosecution  of  Rabirius.  —  Caesar  becomes  Pontifex  Maxi- 
mus. —  And    Praetor. —  Cicero's   conduct    as   consul. — 


Ku  Contents. 


FAOa 


Proposed  Agrarian  law.  —  Resisted  by  Cicero.  —  Catiline 
again  stands  for  the  consulship.  —  Violent  language  in 
the  Senate.  —  Threatened  revolution.  —  Catiline  again 
defeated.  —  The  conspiracy.  —  Warnings  sent  to  Cic- 
ero.—  Meeting  at  Catiline's  house. —  Speech  of  Cicero 
iL  the  Senate.  —  Catiline  joins  an  army  of  insurrection 
in  Etruria. —  His  fellow  conspirators.  —  Correspondence 
with  the  Allobroges.  —  Letters  read  in  the  Senate.  — The 
conspirators  seized.  —  Debate  upon  their  fate.  —  Speech 
of  Caesar.  —  Caesar  on  the  future  state.  —  Speech  of  Cato. 

—  And  of  Cicero.  —  The  conspirators  executed  untried. 

—  Death  of  Catiline 132 

CHAPTER  XH. 

Preparations  for  the  return  of  Ponlpey.  —  Scene  in  the  Fo- 
rum. —  Cato  and  Metellus.  —  Caesar  suspended  from 
the  praetorship.  —  Caesar  supports  Pompey.  —  Scandals 
against  Caesar's  private  life.  —  General  character  of  them. 

—  Festival  of  the  Bona  Dea.  —  Publius  Clodius  enters 
Caesar's  house  dressed  as  a  woman.  —  Prosecution  and 
trial  of  Clodius.  —  His  acquittal  and  the  reason  of  it.  — 
Successes  of  Caesar  as  pro-praetor  in  Spain'. —  Conquest  of 
Lusitania.  —  Return  of  Pompey  to  Italy.  —  First  speech 
in  the  Senate.  —  Precarious  position  of  Cicero.  —  Cato 
and  the  Equites.  —  Caesar  elected  consul.  —  Revival  of 
the  democratic  party. — Anticipated  Agrarian  law. —  Un- 
easiness of  Cicero 162 

CHAPTER  XHI. 

The  consulship  of  Caesar.  —  Character  of  his  intended  legis- 
lation.—  The  Land  Act  first  proposed  in  the  Senate.  — 
Violent  opposition.  —  Caesar  appeals  to  the  Assembly.  — 
Interference  of  the  second  consul  Bibulus.  —  The  Land 
Act  submitted  to  the  people.  —  Pompey  and  Crassus  sup- 
port it.  —  Bibulus  interposes,  but  without  success.  —  The 
Act  carried.  —  And  other  laws.  —  The  Senate  no  longer 
being  consulted.  —  General  purpose  of  the  Leges  Juliae.  — 
Caesar  appointed  to  command  in  Gaul  for  five  years.  — 
His  object  in  accepting  that  province.  —  Condition  of 
Gaul  and  the  dangers  to  be  apprehended  from  it.  —  Alli- 
ance of  Caesar,  Pompey,  and  Crassus.  —  The  Dynasts.  — 


Contents.  xiii 

PAQK 

Indignation  of  the  aristocracy.  —  Threats  to  repeal  Cae- 
sar's laws.  —  Necessity  of  controlling  Cicero  and  Cato.  — 
Clodius  is  made  tribune.  —  Prosecution  of  Cicero  for  ille- 
gal acts  when  consul.  —  Cicero's  friends  forsake  him.  — 
He  flies  and  is  banished 189 

CHAPTER  XIV. 

CaBsar's  military:  narrative.  —  Divisions  of  Gaul.  —  Distribu- 
tion of  population.  —  The  Celts.  —  Degree  of  civilization. 

—  Tribal  system.  —  The  Druids. — The  -^dui  and  the 
Sequani. — Roman  and  German  parties.  —  Intended  mi- 
gration of  the  Helvetii.  —  Composition  of  Caesar's  army. 

—  He  goes  to  Gaul.  —  Checks  the  Helvetii.  —  Returns  to 
Italy  for  larger  forces.  —  The  Helvetii  on  the  Saone.  — 
Defeated  and  sent  back  to  Switzerland.  —  Invasion  of 
Gaul  by  Ariovistus.  —  Caesar  invites  him  to  a  conference. 

—  He  refuses.  —  Alarm  in  the  Roman  army.  —  Caesar 
marches  against  Ariovistus.  —  Interview  between  them. 

—  Treachery  of  the  Roman  Senate.  —  Great  battle  at 
Coluiar. — Defeat  and  annihilation  of  the  Germans. — 
End  of  the  first  campaign.  —  Confederacy  among  the 
Belgae.  —  Battle  on  the  Aisne.  —  War  with  the  Nervii.  — 
Battle  of  Maubeuge.  —  Capture  of  Namur.  —  The  Belgae 
conquered.  —  Submission  of  Brittany.  —  End  of  the  sec- 
ond campaign 214 

CHAPTER  XV. 

Cicero  and  Clodius.  —  Position  and  character  of  Clodius.  — 
Cato  sent  to  Cyprus.  —  Attempted  recall  of  Cicero  de- 
feated by  Clodius.  —  Fight  in  the  Forum.  —  Pardon  and 
return  of  Cicero.  —  Moderate  speech  to  the  people.  — 
Violence  in  the  Senate.  —  Abuse  of  Piso  and  Gabinius.  — 
Coldness  of  the  Senate  towards  Cicero  —  Restoration  of 
Cicero's  house.  —  Interfered  with  by  Clodius.  —  Factions 
of  Clodius  and  Milo.  —  Ptolemy  Auletes  expelled  by  his 
subjects.  —  Appeals  to  Rome  for  help.  —  Alexandrian 
envoys  assassinated.  —  Clodius  elected  aedile.  —  Fight  in 
the  Forum.  —  Parties  in  Rome.  —  Situation  of  Cicero.  -^ 
Rally  of  the  aristocracy.  —  Attempt  to  repeal  the  Leges 
Juliae.  —  Conference   at   Lucca.  —  Caesar,   Pompey,  and 


xiv  Contents. 


PAttl 


Crassus.  —  Cicero  deserts  the  Senate.  —  Explains  his 
motives. —  Confirmation  of  the  Ordinances  of  Lucca. — 
Pompey  and  Crassus  consuls.  —  Caesar's  command  pro- 
longed for  five  additional  years.  —  Rejoicings  in  Rome.  — 
Spectacle  in  the  amphitheatre 247 

CHAPTER  XVI. 

Revolt  of  the  Yeneti.  —  Fleet  prepared  in  the  Loire.  —  Sea- 
fight  at  Quiberon.  —  Reduction  of  Normandy  and  of 
Aquitaine.  —  Complete  conquest  of  Gaul.  —  Fresh  ar- 
rival of  Germans  over  the  lower  Rhine.  —  Caesar  orders 
them  to  retire,  and  promises  them  lands  elsewhere.  — 
They  refuse  to  go.  —  And  are  destroyed.  —  Bridge  over 
the  Rhine.  —  Caesar  invades  Germany.  —  Returns  after 
a  short  inroad.  —  First  expedition  into  Britain.  —  Caesar 
lands  at  Deal,  or  Walmer.  —  Storm  and  injury  to  the 
fleet.  —  Approach  of  the  equinox.  —  Further  prosecution 
of  the  enterprise  postponed  till  the  following  year.  —  Cae- 
ear  goes  to  Italy  for  the  winter.  —  Large  naval  prepara- 
tions. —  Return  of  spring.  —  Alarm  on  the  Moselle.  — 
Fleet  collects  at  Boulogne.  —  Caesar  sails  for  Britain  a 
second  time.  —  Lands  at  Deal.  —  Second  and  more  de- 
structive storm.  —  Ships  repaired  and  placed  out  of 
danger. —  Caesar  marches  through  Kent. —  Crosses  the 
Thames  and  reaches  St.  Albans.  —  Goes  no  further  and 
returns  to  Gaul.  —  Object  of  the  invasion  of  Britain.  — 
Description  of  the  country  and  people 280 

CHAPTER  XVn. 

Distribution  of  the  legions  after  the  return  from  Britain.  — 
Conspiracy  among  the  Gallic  chiefs.  —  Rising  of  the 
Eburones.  —  Destruction  of  Sabinus  and  a  division  of  the 
Roman  array.  —  Danger  of  Quintus  Cicero.  —  Relieved 
by  Caesar  in  person.  —  General  disturbance.  —  Labienus 
attacked  at  Lavacherie.  —  Defeats  and  kills  Induciomarus. 
—  Second  conquest  of  the  Belgae.  —  Caesar  again  crosses 
the  Rhine.  —  Quintus  Cicero  in  danger  a  second  time.  — 
Courage  of  a  Roman  officer.  —  Punishment  of  the  re- 
volted chiefs.  —  Execution  of  Acco 301 


Contents.  xv 

CHAPTER  XVIII. 

FAOI 

Correspondence  of  Cicero  with  Cassar. —  Intimacy  with 
Pompeyand  Crassus.  —  Attacks  on  Piso  and  Gabinius. — 
Cicero  compelled   to  defend  Gabinius.  —  And  Vatinius. 

—  Dissatisfaction  with  his  position.  —  Corruption  at  the 
consular  elections.  —  Public  scandal.  —  CaBsar  and  Pom- 
pey.  —  Deaths  of  Aurelia  and  Julia.  —  Catastrophe  in 
the  East.  —  Overthrow  and  death  of  Crassus.  —  Intrigue 
to  detach  Pompey  from  Cassar.  —  Milo  a  candidate  for 
the  consulship. — Murder  of  Clodius.  —  Burning  of  the 
Senate-house.  —  Trial  and  exile  of  Milo.  —  Fresh  engage- 
ments with  Caesar.  —  Promise  of  the  consulship  at  the  end 

of  his  term  in  Gaul 819 

CHAPTER  XIX. 

Last  revolt  of  Gaul. — Massacre  of  Romans  at  Gien. — 
Vercingetorix.  —  Effect  on  the  Celts  of  the  disturbances 
at  Rome.  —  Caesar  crosses  the  Cevennes.  —  Defeats  the 
Arverni.  —  Joins  his  army  on  the  Seine. —  Takes  Gien, 
Nevers,  and  Bourges.  —  Fails  at  Gergovia.  —  Rapid  march 
to  Sens.  —  Labienus  at  Paris.  —  Battle  of  the  Vingeanne. 

—  Siege  of  Alesia. —  Caesar's  double  lines.  —  Arrival  of 
the  relieving  army  of  Gauls.  —  First  battle  on  the  plain. 

—  Second  battle.  —  Great  defeat  of  the  Gauls.  —  Surren- 
der of  Alesia.  —  Campaign  against  the  Carnutes  and  the 
Bellovaci.  —  Rising  on  the  Dordogne.  —  Capture  of  Uxel- 
lodunum.  —  Caesar  at  Arras. —  Completion  of  the  conquest  Ml 

CHAPTER  XX. 

Bibulus  in  Syria.  —  Approaching  term  of  Caesar's  govern- 
ment. —  Threats  of  impeachment. —  Caesar  to  be  consul 
or  not  to  be  consul?  —  Caesar's  political  ambition.  —  Ha- 
tred felt  towards  him  by  the  aristocracy.  —  Two  legions 
taken  from  him  on  pretence  of  service  against  the  Par- 
thians.  —  Caesar  to  be  recalled  before  the  expiration  of 
his  government.  —  Senatorial  intrigues.  —  Curio  deserts 
the  Senate.  —  Labienus  deserts  Caesar. —  Cicero  in  Cilicia. 

—  Returns  to  Rome.  —  Pompey  determined  on  war.  — 
Cicero's   uncertainties.  —  Resolution  of   the  Senate  and 


xvi  Contents, 

Txam 
consuls.  —  Csesar  recalled.  —  Alarm  in  Rome.  —  Alterna- 
tive schemes.  —  Letters   of   Cicero.  —  Caesar's  crime  in 
the  eyes  of  the  Optimates 368 

CHAPTER  XXI. 

Caesar  appeals  to  his  army.  —  The  tribunes  join  him  at  Rim- 
in'.  —  Panic  and  flight  of  the  Senate.  —  Incapacity  of 
Pompey.  —  Fresh  negotiations.  —  Advance  of  Cassar.  — 
The  country  districts  refuse  to  arm  against  him.  —  Cap- 
ture of  Corfinium.  —  Release  of  the  prisoners.  —  Offers 
of  Caesar.  —  Continued  hesitation  of  Cicero.  —  Advises 
Pompey  to  make  peace.  —  Pompey  with  th^  Senate  and 
consuls  flies  to  Greece.  —  Cicero's  reflections.  —  Pompey 
to  be  another  Sylla.  —  Caesar  mortal,  and  may  die  by 
more  means  than  one 389 

CHAPTER  XXn. 

Pompey's  army  in  Spain.  —  Caesar  at  Rome.  —  Departure 
for  Spain.  —  Marseilles  refuses  to  receive  him.  —  Siege  of 
Marseilles.  —  Defeat  of  Pompey's  lieutenants  at  Lerida. 

—  The  whole  army  made  prisoners.  —  Surrender  of  Yarro. 

—  Marseilles  taken.  —  Defeat  of  Curio  by  King  Juba  in 
Africa.  —  Caesar  named  Dictator.  —  Confusion  in  Rome. 

—  Caesar  at  Brindisi.  —  Crosses  to  Greece  in  midwinter. 

—  Again  offers  peace.  —  Pompey's  fleet  in  the  Adriatic. 
Death  of  Bibulus.  —  Failure  of  negotiations.  —  Caelius 
and  Milo  killed.  —  Arrival  of  Antony  in  Greece  with  the 
second  divisions  of  Caesar's  army.  —  Siege  of  Durazzo.  — 
Defeat  and  retreat  of  Caesar.  —  The  Senate  and  Pompey. 

—  Pursuit  of  Caesar.  —  Battle  of  Pharsalia.  —  Flight  of 
Pompey.  —  The  camp  taken.  —  Complete  overthrow  of 
the  Senatorial  faction.  —  Cicero  on  the  situation  once 
more 40f 

CHAPTER  XXIII. 

Pompey  flies  to  Egypt.  —  State  of  parties  in  Egypt.  —  Mur- 
dei  of  Pompey.  —  His  character.  —  Caesar  follows  him  to 
Alexandria.  —  Rising  in  the  city.  —  Caesar  besieged  in  the 
palace.  — ;  Desperate  fighting.  —  Arrival  of  Mithridates 
of  Pergamus.  —  Battle  near  Cairo,  and  death  of  the  young 
Ptolemy.  —  Cleopatra.  —  The  detention  of  Caesar  enables 


Contents.  xvii 

PAQH 

the  Optimates  to  rally.  —  III  conduct  of  Caesar's  officers 
in  Spain.  —  War  with  Pharnaces.  —  Battle  of  Zela,  and 
settlement  of  Asia  Minor 439 

CHAPTER  XXIV. 

The  aristocracy  raise  an  army  in  Africa.  —  Supported  by 
Juba.  —  Pharsalia  not  to  end  the  war.  —  Caesar  again  in 
Rome.  —  Restores  order.  —  Mutiny  in  Caesar's  army. — 
The  mutineers  submit. —  Caesar  lands  in  Africa. — Diffi- 
culties of  the  campaign.  —  Battle  of  Thapsus.  —  No  more 
pardons.  —  Afranius  and  Faustus  Sylla  put  to  death.  — 
Cato  kills  himself  at  Utica.  —  Scipio  killed.  —  Jnba  and 
Petreius  die  on  each  other's  swords.  —  A  scene  in  Caesar's 
camp 457 

CHAPTER  XXV. 

Rejoicings  in  Rome.  —  Caesar  Dictator  for  the  year.  —  Re- 
forms the  Constitution.  —  Reforms  the  Calendar.  —  And 
the  criminal  law.  —  Dissatisfaction  of  Cicero.  — Last  ef- 
forts in  Spain  of  Labienus  and  the  young  Pompeys.  — 
Caesar  goes  thither  in  person  accompanied  by  Octavius.  — 
Caesar's  last  battle  at  Munda.  —  Death  of  Labienus. — 
Capture  of  Cordova.  —  Close  of  the  Civil  War.  —  General 
reflections 471 

CHAPTER  XXVL 

Caesar  once  more  in  Rome.  —  General  amnesty.  —  The  sur- 
viving Optimates  pretend  to  submit.  —  Increase  in  the 
number  of  Senators.  —  Introduction  of  foreigners.  —  New 
colonies.  —  Carthage.  —  Corinth.  —  Sumptuary  regula- 
tions. —  Digest  of  the  law.  —  Intended  Parthian  war.  — 
Honors  heaped  on  Caesar.  —  The  object  of  them.  —  Cae- 
sar's indifference. —  Some  consolations. —  Hears  of  con- 
spiracies, but  disregards  them.  —  Speculations  of  Cicero 
in  the  last  stage  of  the  war.  —  Speech  in  the  Senate.  — 
A  contrast,  and  the  meaning  of  it.  — The  Kingship. — 
Antony  offers  Caesar  the  crown,  which  Caesar  refuses.  — 
The  assassins.  —  Who  they  were.  —  Brutus  and  Cassius. 
—  Two  officers  of  Csesar's  among  them.  —  Warnings. — 
Meeting  of  the  conspirators.  —  Caesar's  last  evening. — 
The  Ides  of  March.  —  The  Senate-house. —  Caesar  killed.  486 


xviii  Contents, 


CHAPTER  XXVn. 

Consternation  in  B-ome.  —  The  conspirators  in  the  Capitol. 

—  Unforeseen  difficulties.  —  Speech  of  Cicero.  —  Caesar^s 
funeral.  —  Speech  of  Antony.  —  Fury  of  the  people.  — 
The  funeral  pile  in  the  Forum.  —  The  King  is  dead,  but 
the  monarchy  survives.  —  Fruitlessness  of  the  murder.  — 
Octavius  and  Antony.  —  Union  of  Octavius,  Antony,  and 
Lepidus.  —  Proscription  of  the  assassins.  —  Philippi,  and 
the  end  of  Brutus  and  Cassius.  —  Death  of  Cicero.  —  His 
character 515 

CHAPTER  XXVm. 

General  remarks  on  CsBsar.  —  Mythological  tendencies.  — 
Supposed  profligacy  of  Caesar.  —  Nature  of  the  evidence. 

—  Servilia.  —  Cleopatra.  —  Personal  appearance  of  Cae- 
sar. —  His  manners  in  private  life.  —  Considerations  upon 
him  as  a  politician,  a  soldier,  and  a  man  of  letters.  — 
Practical  justice  his  chief  aim  as  a  politician.  —  Univer- 
sality of  military  genius.  —  Devotion  of  his  army  to  him, 
how  deserved.  —  Art  of  reconciling  conquered  peoples.  — 
General  scrupulousness  and  leniency.  —  Oratorical  and 
literary  style.  —  Cicero's  description  of  it.  —  His  lost 
works.  —  Cato's  judgment  on  the  Civil  War.  —  How  Cae- 
sar should  be  estimated.  —  Legend  of  Charles  V.  —  Spir- 
itual condition  of  the  age  in  which  Caesar  lived.  —  His 
work  on  earth  to  establish  order  and  good  government, 
to  make  possible  the  introduction  of  Christianity.  —  A 
parallel 58'I 


C^SAR:  A  SKETCH. 


CHAPTER  I. 

To  the  student  of  political  history  and  to  the  Eng- 
lish student  above  all  others,  the  conversion  of  the 
Roman  Republic  into  a  military  empire  commands  a 
peculiar  interest.  Notwithstanding  many  differences, 
the  English  and  the  Romans  essentially  resemble  one 
another.  The  early  Romans  possessed  the  faculty  of 
self-government  beyond  any  people  of  whom  we  have 
historical  knowledge,  with  the  one  exception  of  our- 
selves. In  virtue  of  their  temporal  freedom,  they  be- 
came the  most  powerful  nation  in  the  known  world  ; 
and  their  liberties  perished  only  when  Rome  became 
the  mistress  of  conquered  races,  to  whom  she  was  un- 
able or  unwilling  to  extend  her  privileges.  If  Eng- 
land was  similarly  supreme,  if  all  rival  powers  were 
eclipsed  by  her  or  laid  under  her  feet,  the  imperial 
tendencies,  which  are  as  strongly  marked  in  us  as  our 
love  of  liberty,  might  lead  us  over  the  same  course  to 
the  same  end.  If  there  be  one  lesson  which  history 
clearly  teaches,  it  is  this,  that  free  nations  cannot 
govern  subject  provinces.  If  they  are  unable  or  un- 
willing to  admit  their  dependencies  to  share  their 
own  constitution,  the  constitution  itself  will  fall  in 
pieces  from  mere  incompetence  for  its  duties. 

We  talk  often  foolishly  of  the  necessities  of  things, 


and  we  blame  circumstances  for  the  consequences  of 
our  own  follies  and  vices ;  but  there  are  faults  which 
are  not  faults  of  will,  but  faults  of  mere  inadequacy 
to  some  unforeseen  position.  Human  nature  is  equal 
to  much,  but  not  to  everything.  It  can  rise  to  alti- 
tudes where  it  is  alike  unable  to  sustain  itself  or  to 
retire  from  them  to  a  safer  elevation.  Yet  when  the 
field  is  open  it  pushes  forward,  and  moderation  in  the 
pursuit  of  greatness  is  never  learnt  and  never  will  be 
learnt.  Men  of  genius  are  governed  by  their  in- 
stinct ;  they  follow  where  instinct  leads  them ;  and 
the  public  life  of  a  nation  is  but  the  life  of  successive 
generations  of  statesmen,  whose  horizon  is  bounded, 
and  who  act  from  day  to  day  as  immediate  interests 
suggest.  The  popular  leader  of  the  hour  sees  some 
present  difficulty  or  present  opportunity  of  distinc- 
tion. He  deals  with  each  question  as  it  arises,  leav- 
ing future  consequences  to  those  who  are  to  come 
after  him.  The  situation  changes  from  period  to 
period,  and  tendencies  are  generated  with  an  acceler- 
ating force,  which,  when  once  established,  can  never 
be  reversed.  When  the  control  of  reason  is  once  re- 
moved, the  catastrophe  is  no  longer  distant,  and  then 
nations,  like  all  organized  creations,  all  forms  of  life, 
from  the  meanest  flower  to  the  highest  human  insti- 
tution, pass  through  the  inevitably  recurring  stages 
of  growth  and  transformation  and  decay.  A  com- 
monwealth, says  Cicero,  ought  to  be  immortal,  and 
forever  to  renew  its  youth.  Yet  commonwealths 
have  proved  as  unenduring  as  any  other  natural 
object:  — 

Everjrthing  that  grows 
Holds  in  perfection  but  a  little  moment, 

And  this  huge  state  presenteth  nought  but  shows, 
Whereon  the  stars  in  silent  influence  comment. 


Conditions  of  National  Life.  3 

Nevertheless,  "  as  the  heavens  are  high  above  the 
earth,  so  is  wisdom  above  folly."  Goethe  compares 
life  to  a  game  at  whist,  where  the  cards  are  dealt  out 
by  destiny,  and  the  rules  of  the  game  are  fixed :  sub- 
ject to  these  conditions,  the  players  are  left  to  win 
or  lose,  according  to  their  skill  or  want  of  skill.  The 
life  of  a  nation,  like  the  life  of  a  man,  may  be  pro- 
longed in  honor  into  the  fulness  of  its  time,  or  it  may 
perish  prematurely,  for  want  of  guidance,  by  violence 
or  internal  disorders.  And  thus  the  history  of  na- 
tional revolutions  is  to  statesmanship  what  the  pathol- 
ogy of  disease  is  to  the  art  of  medicine.  The  physi- 
cian cannot  arrest  the  coming  on  of  age.  Where 
disease  has  laid  hold  upon  the  constitution  he  cannot 
expel  it.  But  he  may  check  the  progress  of  the 
evil  if  he  can  recognize  the  symptoms  in  time.  He 
can  save  life  at  the  cost  of  an  unsound  limb.  He 
can  tell  us  how  to  preserve  our  health  when  we  have 
it ;  he  can  warn  us  of  the  conditions  under  which 
particular  disorders  will  have  us  at  disadvantage. 
And  so  with  nations :  amidst  the  endless  variety  of 
circumstances  there  are  constant  phenomena  which 
give  notice  of  approaching  danger ;  there  are  courses 
of  action  which  have  uniformly  produced  the  same 
results ;  and  the  wise  politicians  are  those  who  have 
learnt  from  experience  the  real  tendencies  of  things, 
un misled  by  superficial  differences,  who  can  shun  the 
rocks  where  others  have  been  wrecked,  or  from  fore- 
sight of  what  is  coming  can  be  cool  when  the  peril  is 
upon  them. 

For  these  reasons,  the  fall  of  the  Roman  Republic 
is  exceptionally  instructive  to  us.  A  constitutional 
government  the  most  enduring  and  the  most  power- 
ful that  ever  existed  was  put  on  its  trial,  and  found 


4  CcBsar. 

wanting.  We  see  it  in  its  growth  ;  we  see  the  causes 
which  undermined  its  strength.  We  see  attempts  to 
check  the  growing  mischief  fail,  and  we  see  why  they 
failed.  And  we  see,  finally,  when  nothing  seemed 
so  likely  as  complete  dissolution,  the  whole  system 
changed  by  a  violent  operation,  and  the  dying  pa- 
tient's life  protracted  for  further  centuries  of  power 
and  usefulness. 

Again,  irrespective  of  the  direct  teaching  which 
we  may  gather  from  them,  particular  epochs  in  his- 
tory have  the  charm  for  us  which  dramas  have  — 
periods  when  the  great  actors  on  the  stage  of  life 
stand  before  us  with  the  distinctness  with  which  they 
appear  in  the  creations  of  a  poet.  There  have  not 
been  many  such  periods;  for  to  see  the  past,  it  is  not 
enough  for  us  to  be  able  to  look  at  it  through  the 
eyes  of  contemporaries ;  these  contemporaries  them- 
selves must  have  been  parties  to  the  scenes  which 
they  describe.  They  must  have  had  full  opportuni- 
ties of  knowledge.  They  must  have  had  eyes  which 
could  see  things  in  their  true  proportions.  They 
must  have  had,  in  addition,  the  rare  literary  powers 
which  can  convey  to  others  through  the  medium  of 
language  an  exact  picture  of  their  own  minds ;  and 
such  happy  combinations  occur  but  occasionally  in 
thousands  of  years.  Generation  after  generation 
passes  by,  and  is  crumbled  into  sand  as  rocks  are 
crumbled  by  the  sea.  Each  brought  with  it  its  he- 
roes and  its  villains,  its  triumphs  and  its  sorrows  ; 
but  the  history  is  formless  legend,  incredible  and  un- 
intelligible ;  the  figures  of  the  actors  are  indistinct  aa 
the  rude  ballad  or  ruder  inscription,  which  may  be 
the  only  authentic  record  of  them.  We  do  not  see 
the  men  and  women,  we  see  only  the  outlines  of  thera 


Teachings  of  History.  b 

wliicli  have  been  woven  into  tradition  as  tlie^  ap- 
peared to  the  loves  or  hatreds  of  passionate  admirers 
or  enemies.  Of  such  times  we  know  nothing,  save 
the  broad  results  as  they  are  measured  from  century 
to  century,  with  here  and  there  some  indestructible 
pebble,  some  law,  some  fragment  of  remarkable 
poetry  which  has  resisted  decomposition.  These  pe- 
riods are  the  proper  subject  of  the  philosophic  his- 
torian,  and  to  him  we  leave  them.  But  there  are 
others,  a  few,  at  which  intellectual  activity  was  as 
great  as  it  is  now,  with  its  written  records  surviving, 
in  which  the  passions,  the  opinions,  the  ambitions  of 
the  age,  are  all  before  us,  where  the  actors  in  the 
great  drama  speak  their  own  thoughts  in  their  own 
words,  where  we  hear  their  enemies  denounce  them 
and  their  friends  praise  them ;  where  we  are  our- 
selves plunged  amidst  the  hopes  and  fears  of  the 
hour,  to  feel  the  conflicting  emotions  and  to  sympa- 
thize in  the  struggles  which  again  seem  to  live :  and 
here  philosophy  is  at  fault.  Philosophy,  when  we 
are  face  to  face  with  real  men,  is  as  powerless  as  over 
the  Iliad  or  King  Lear.  The  overmastering  human 
interest  transcends  explanation.  We  do  not  sit  in 
judgment  on  the  right  or  the  wrong;  we  do  not  seek 
out  causes  to  account  for  what  takes  place,  feeling 
too  conscious  of  the  inadequacy  of  our  analysis.  We 
see  human  beings  possessed  by  different  impulses, 
and  working  out  a  preordained  result,  as  the  subtle 
forces  drive  each  along  the  path  marked  out  for  him  ; 
and  history  becomes  the  more  impressive  to  us  where 
it  least  immediately  instructs. 

With  such  vividness,  with  such  transparent  clear- 
ness the  age  stands  before  us  of  Cato  and  Pompey, 
of  Cicero  and  Julius  Caesar ;  the  more  distinctly  be' 


6  Ccesar. 

cause  it  was  an  age  in  so  many  ways  the  counterpart 
of  oar  own,  the  blossoming  period  of  the  old  civiliza- 
tion, when  the  intellect  was  trained  to  the  highest 
point  which  it  could  reach,  and  on  the  great  subjects 
of  human  interest,  on  morals  and  politics,  on  poetry 
and  art,  even  on  religion  itself  and  the  speculative 
problems  of  life,  men  thought  as  we  think,  doubted 
where  we  doubt,  argued  as  we  argue,  aspired  and 
struggled  after  the  same  objects.  It  was  an  age  of 
material  progress  and  material  civilization ;  an  age  of 
civil  liberty  and  intellectual  culture ;  an  age  of  pam- 
phlets and  epigrams,  of  salons  and  of  dinner  parties,  of 
senatorial  majorities  and  electoral  corruption.  The 
highest  offices  of  state  were  open  in  theory  to  the 
meanest  citizen  ;  they  were  confined,  in  fact,  to  those 
who  had  the  longest  purses,  or  the  most  ready  use  of 
the  tongue  on  popular  platforms.  Distinctions  of 
birth  had  been  exchanged  for  distinctions  of  wealth. 
The  struggles  between  plebeians  and  patricians  for 
equality  of  privilege  were  over,  and  a  new  division 
had  been  formed  between  the  party  of  property  and 
a  party  who  desired  a  change  in  the  structure  of  so- 
ciety. The  free  cultivators  were  disappearing  from 
the  soil.  Italy  was  being  absorbed  into  vast  estates, 
held  ly  a  few  favored  families  and  cultivated  by 
slaves,  while  the  old  agricultural  population  was 
driven  off  the  land,  and  was  crowded  into  towns. 
The  rich  were  extravagant,  for  life  had  ceased  to 
have  practical  interest,  except  for  its  material  pleas- 
ures ;  the  occupation  of  the  higher  classes  was  to  ob- 
tain money  without  labor,  and  to  spend  it  in  idle 
enjoyment.  Patriotism  survived  on  the  lips,  but  pa- 
triotism meant  the  ascendency  of  the  party  which 
would  maintain  the  existing  order  of  things,  or  would 


Ancient  mid  Modern  Civilization  contrasted.     1 

oyerthrow  it  for  a  more  equal  distribution  of  the  good 
tilings  which  alone  were  valued.  Religion,  once  the 
foundation  of  the  laws  and  rnle  of  personal  conduct, 
had  subsided  into  opinion.  The  educated,  in  their 
hearts,  disbelieved  it.  Temples  were  still  built  with 
increasing  splendor;  the  established  forms  were  scru- 
pulously observed.  Public  men  spoke  conventionally 
of  Providence,  that  they  might  throw  on  their  op- 
ponents the  odium  of  impiety ;  but  of  genuine  belief 
that  life  had  any  serious  meaning,  there  was  none  re- 
maining beyond  the  circle  of  the  silent,  patient,  igno- 
rant multitude.  The  whole  spiritual  atmosphere  was 
saturated  with  cant  —  cant  moral,  cant  political,  cant 
religious  ;  an  affectation  of  high  principle  w^hich  had 
ceased  to  touch  the  conduct,  and  flowed  on  in  an  in- 
creasing volume  of  insincere  and  unreal  speech.  The 
truest  thinkers  were  those  who,  like  Lucretius,  spoke 
frankly  out  their  real  convictions,  declared  that  Prov- 
idence was  a  dream,  and  that  man  and  the  world  he 
lived  in  were  material  phenomena,  generated  by  nat- 
ural forces  out  of  cosmic  atoms,  and  into  atoms  to  be 
again  resolved. 

Tendencies  now  in  operation  may  a  few  generations 
hence  land  modern  society  in  similar  conclusions,  un- 
less other  convictions  revive  meanwhile  and  get  the 
mastery  of  them  ;  of  which  possibility  no  more  need 
be  said  than  this,  that  unless  there  be  such  a  revival 
in  some  shape  or  other,  the  forces,  whatever  they  be, 
which  control  the  forms  in  which  human  things  ad- 
just themselves,  will  make  an  end  again,  as  they  made 
an  end  before,  of  what  are  called  free  institutions. 
Popular  forms  of  government  are  possible  only  when 
individual  men  can  govern  their  own  lives  on  moral 
principles,  and  when  duty  is  of  more  importance  than 


8  Coesar, 

pleasure,  and  "justice  th^n  material  expediency.  Rome 
at  any  rate  bad  grown  ripe  for  judgment.  The  shape 
which  the  judgment  assumed  was  due  perhaps,  in  a 
measure,  to  a  condition  which  has  no  longer  a  parallel 
among  us.  The  men  and  women  by  whom  the  hard 
work  of  the  world  was  done  were  chiefly  slaves,  and 
those  who  constitute  the  driving  force  of  reyolutiona 
in  modern  Europe,  lay  then  outside  societ}^,  unable 
and  perhaps  uncaring  to  affect  its  fate.  No  change 
then  possible  would  much  influence  the  prospects  of 
the  unhappy  bondsmen.  The  triumph  of  the  party 
of  the  constitution  would  bring  no  liberty  to  them. 
That  their  masters  should  fall  like  themselves  under 
the  authority  of  a  higher  master  could  not  much  dis- 
tress them.  Their  s^mipathies,  if  they  had  any,  would 
go  with  those  nearest  their  own  rank,  the  emancipated 
slaves  and  the  sons  of  those  who  were  emancipated  ; 
and  they,  and  the  poor  free  citizens  everywhere,  Avere 
to  a  man  on  the  side  which  was  considered  and  was 
called  the  side  of  "  the  people,"  and  was,  in  fact,  the 
side  of  despotism. 


CHAPTER  11. 

The  Roman  Constitution  had  grown  out  of  the 
character  of  the  Roman  nation.  It  was  popular  in 
form  beyond  all  constitutions  of  which  there  is  any 
record  in  history.  The  citizens  assembled  in  the 
Comitia  were  the  sovereign  authority  in  the  State, 
and  they  exercised  their  power  immediately  and  not 
by  representatives.  The  executive  magistrates  were 
chosen  annually.  The  assembly  was  the  supreme 
Court  of  Appeal ;  and  without  its  sanction  no  free- 
man could  be  lawfully  put  to  death.  In  the  assembly 
also  was  the  supreme  power  of  legislation.  Any 
consul,  any  praetor,  any  tribune,  might  propose  a  law 
from  the  Rostra  to  the  people.  The  people  if  it 
pleased  them  might  accept  such  law,  and  senators 
and  public  officers  might  be  sworn  to  obey  it  under 
pains  of  treason.  As  a  check  on  precipitate  resolu- 
tions, a  single  consul  or  a  single  tribune  might  in- 
terpose his  veto.  But  the  veto  was  binding  only  so 
long  as  the  year  of  office  continued.  If  the  people 
were  in  earnest,  submission  to  their  wishes  could  be 
made  a  condition  at  the  next  election,  and  thus  no 
constitutional  means  existed  of  resisting  them  when 
these  wishes  showed  themselves. 

In  normal  times  the  Senate  was  allowed  the  privi- 
lege of  preconsidering  intended  acts  of  legislation, 
and  refusing  to  recommend  them  if  inexpedient,  but 
the  privilege  was  only  converted  into  a  right  after 
violent  convulsions,  and  was  never  able  to  maintain 


10  Ccesar, 

itself.  That  under  such  a  system  the  functions  of 
government  could  have  been  carried  on  at  all  was 
due  entirely  to  the  habits  of  self-restraint,  which  the 
Komans  had  engraved  into  their  nature.  They  were 
called  a  nation  of  kings,  kings  over  their  own  ap- 
petites, passions,  and  inclinations.  Tbey  were  not 
imaginative,  they  were  not  intellectual ;  tbey  had 
little  national  poetry,  little  art,  little  philosophy. 
They  were  moral  and  practical.  In  these  two  direc- 
tions the  force  that  was  in  them  entirely  ran.  They 
were  free  politically,  because  freedom  meant  to  them, 
not  freedom  to  do  as  they  pleased,  but  freedom  to  do 
what  was  right;  and  every  citizen,  before  he  arrived 
at  his  civil  privileges,  had  been  schooled  in  the  disci- 
pline of  obedience.  Each  head  of  a  household  was 
absolute  master  of  it,  master  over  his  children  and 
servants,  even  to  the  extent  of  life  and  death.  What 
the  father  was  to  the  family,  the  gods  were  to  the 
whole  people,  the  awful  lords  and  rulers  at  whose 
pleasure  they  lived  and  breathed.  Unlike  the 
Greeks,  the  reverential  Romans  invented  no  idle 
legends  about  the  supernatural  world.  The  gods  to 
them  were  the  guardians  of  the  State,  whose  will 
in  all  things  they  were  bound  to  seek  and  to  obey. 
The  forms  in  which  they  endeavored  to  learn  what 
that  will  might  be  were  childish  or  childlike.  They 
looked  to  signs  in  the  sky,  to  thunder-storms  and 
viomets  and  shooting  stars.  Birds,  winged  messen- 
gers, as  they  thought  them,  between  earth  and  heaven, 
were  celestial  indicators  of  the  gods'  commands.  But 
omens  and  auguries  were  but  the  outward  symbols, 
and  the  Romans,  like  all  serious  peoples,  went  to 
their  own  hearts  for  their  real  guidance.  They  had 
a   unique  religious  peculiarity,  to  which  no  race  of 


Moral  Character  of  the  Romans,  11 

men  has  produced  anything  like.  Tliey  did  not  era- 
body  the  elemental  forces  in  personal  forms  ;  they 
did  not  fashion  a  theology  out  of  the  movements  of 
the  sun  and  stars  or  the  changes  of  the  seasons. 
Traces  may  be  found  among  them  of  cosmic  tradi- 
tions and  superstitions,  which  were  common  to  all  the 
world;  but  they  added  of  their  own  this  especial 
feature  :  that  they  built  temples  and  offered  sacrifices 
to  the  highest  human  excellences,  to  "  Valor,"  to 
"Truth,"  to  "Good  Faith,"  to  "Modesty,"  to 
"Charity,"  to  "Concord."  In  these  qualities  lay  all 
that  raised  man  above  the  animals  with  which  he 
had  so  much  in  common.  In  them,  therefore,  were 
to  be  found  the  link  which  connected  him  with  the 
Divine  nature,  and  moral  qualities  were  regarded  as 
Divine  influences  which  gave  his  life  its  meaning  and 
its  worth.  The  "  Virtues  "  were  elevated  into  beings 
to  whom  disobedience  could  be  punished  as  a  crime, 
and  the  superstitious  fears  which  run  so  often  into 
mischievous  idolatries  were  enlisted  with  conscience 
in  the  direct  service  of  right  action. 

On  the  same  principle  the  Romans  chose  the  he- 
roes and  heroines  of  their  national  history.  The 
Manlii  and  Valerii  were  patterns  of  courage,  the  Lu- 
cretias  and  Virginias  of  purity,  the  Decii  and  Curtii 
of  patriotic  devotion,  the  Reguli  and  Fabricii  of  stain- 
less truthfulness.  On  the  same  principle,  too,  they 
had  a  public  officer  whose  functions  resembled  those 
of  the  Church  courts  in  mediaeval  Europe,  a  Censor 
Morum,  an  inquisitor  who  might  examine  into  the 
\iabits  of  private  families,  rebuke  extravagance,  check 
luxury,  punish  vice  and  self-indulgence,  nay,  who 
could  remove  from  the  Senate,  the  great  council  of 
elders,  persons  whose  moral  conduct  was  a  reproach 


.12  Ccesar. 

to  a  body  on  whose  reputation  no  sliadow  could  be  al- 
lowed to  rest. 

Such  the  Romans  were  in  the  day  when  their  do- 
minion bad  not  extended  beyond  the  limits  of  Italy; 
and  because  they  were  such  they  were  able  to  prosper 
under  a  constitution  which  to  modern  experience 
would  promise  only  the  most  hopeless  confusion. 

IMorahty  thus  ingrained  in  the  national  character 
and  grooved  into  habits  of  action  creates  strength,  as 
nothing  else  creates  it.  The  difficulty  of  conduct  does 
not  lie  in  knowing  what  it  is  right  to  do,  but  in 
doing  it  when  known.  Intellectual  culture  does  not 
touch  the  conscience.  It  provides  no  motives  to  over- 
come the  weakness  of  the  will,  and  with  wider  knowl- 
edge it  brings  also  new  temptations.  The  sense  of 
duty  is  present  in  each  detail  of  life;  the  obligatory 
"must"  which  binds  the  will  to  the  course  which 
right  principle,  has  marked  out  for  it,  produces  a  fibre, 
like  the  fibre  of  the  oak.  The  educated  Greeks  knew 
little  of  it.  They  had  courage,  and  genius,  and  en- 
thusiasm, but  they  had  no  horror  of  immorality  as 
Buch.  The  Stoics  saw  what  was  wanting,  and  tried 
to  supply  it ;  but  though  they  could  provide  a  theory 
of  action,  they  could  not  make  the  theory  into  a  real- 
ity, and  it  is  noticeable  that  Stoicism  as  a  rule  of  life 
became  important  only  when  adopted  by  the  Romans. 
The  Catholic  Church  effected  something  in  its  better 
days  when  it  had  its  courts  which  treated  sins  as 
crimes.  Calvinism,  while  it  w^as  believed,  produced 
characters  nobler  and  grander  than  any  which  Re- 
publican Rome  produced.  But  the  Catholic  Church 
turned  its  penances  into  money  payments.  Calvin- 
ism made  demands  on  faith  beyond  what  truth  would 
bear*  and  when  doubt  had  once  entered,  the  spell  of 


Morality  and  Intellect,  13 

Calvinism  was  broken.  The  veracity  of  the  Romans, 
and  perliaps  the  happy  accident  that  they  h&,d  no  in- 
herited religious  traditions,  saved  them  for  centuries 
from  similar  trials.  They  had  hold  of  real  truth  un- 
alloyed with  baser  metal ;  and  truth  had  made  them 
free  and  kept  them  so.  When  all  else  has  passed 
away,  when  theologies  have  yielded  up  their  real 
meaning,  and  creeds  and  symbols  have  become  trans- 
parent, and  man  is  again  in  contact  with  the  hard 
facts  of  nature,  it  will  be  found  that  the  "Virtues" 
which  the  Romans  made  into  gods  contain  in  them 
the  essence  of  true  religion,  that  in  them  lies  the 
special  characteristic  which  distinguishes  human  be- 
ings from  the  rest  of  animated  things.  Every  other 
creature  exists  for  itself,  and  cares  for  its  own  preser- 
vation. Nothing  larger  or  better  is  expected  from  it 
or  possible  to  it.  To  man  it  is  said,  you  do  not  live  for 
yourself.  If  you  live  for  yourself  you  shall  come  to 
nothing.  Be  brave,  be  just,  be  pure,  be  true  in  word 
and  deed;  care  not  for  your  enjoyment,  care  not  for 
your  life ;  care  only  for  what  is  right.  So,  and  not 
otherwise,  it  shall  be  well  with  you.  So  the  Maker  of 
you  has  ordered,  whom  jou.  will  disobey  at  your  peril. 
Thus  and  thus  only  are  nations  formed  which  are 
destined  to  endure ;  and  as  habits  based  on  such  con- 
victions are  slow  in  growing,  so  when  grown  to  ma- 
turity they  survive  extraordinary  trials.  But  nations 
are  made  up  of  many  persons  in  circumstances  of 
endless  variety.  In  country  districts,  where  the  rou- 
tine of  life  continues  simple,  the  type  of  character 
remains  unaffected  ;  generation  follows  on  generation 
exposed  to  the  same  influences  and  treading  in  the 
same  steps.  But  the  morality  of  habit,  though  the 
most  important  element  in  human  conduct,  is  still  but 


14  Ccesar, 

a  part  of  it.  Moral  habits  grow  under  given  condi- 
tions. They  correspond  to  a  given  degree  of  temp- 
tation. When  men  are  removed  into  situations  where 
the  use  and  wont  of  their  fathers  no  longer  meets 
their  necessities  ;  where  new  opportunities  are  offered 
to  them  ;  where  their  opinions  are  broken  in  upon 
by  new  ideas ;  where  pleasures  tempt  them  on  every 
side,  and  they  have  but  to  stretch  out  their  hand  "to 
take  them  ;  moral  habits  yield  under  the  strain,  and 
they  have  no  other  resource  to  fall  back  upon.  In- 
tellectual cultivation  brings  with  it  rational  interests. 
Knowledge,  which  looks  before  and  after,  acts  as  a 
restraining  power,  to  help  conscience  when  it  flags. 
The  sober  and  wholesome  manners  of  life  among 
the  early  Romans  had  given  them  vigorous  minds  in 
vigorous  bodies.  The  animal  nature  had  grown  as 
strongly  as  the  moral  nature,  and  along  with  it  the 
animal  appetites;  and  when  appetites  burst  their  tra- 
ditionary restraints,  and  man  in  himself  has  no  other 
notion  of  enjoyment  beyond  bodily  pleasure,  he  may 
pass  by  an  easy  transition  into  a  mere  powerful  brute. 
And  thus  it  happened  with  the  higher  classes- at  Rome 
after  the  destruction  of  Carthage.  Italy  had  fallen 
to  them  by  natural  and  wholesome  expansion  ;  but 
from  being  sovereigns  of  Italy,  they  became  a  race 
of  imperial  conquerors.  Suddenly  and  in  compara- 
tively a  few  years  after  the  one  power  was  gone  which 
could  resist  them,  they  became  the  actual  or  virtual 
rulers  of  the  entire  circuit  of  the  Mediterranean. 
The  southeast  of  Spain,  the  coast  of  France  from 
the  Pyrenees  to  Nice,  the  north  of  Italy,  Illyria  and 
Greece,  Sardinia,  Sicily,  and  the  Greek  Islands,  the 
southern  and  western  shores  of  Asia  Minor,  were  Ro* 
man  provinces,  governed  directly  under  Roman  mag- 


Expansion  of  Roman  Power.  15 

istrates.  On  the  African  side  Mauritania  (Morocco) 
was  still  free.  Numidia  (the  modern  Algeria)  re- 
tained its  native  dynasty,  but  was  a  Koman  de- 
pendency. The  Carthaginian  dominions,  Tunis  and 
Tripoli,  had  been  annexed  to  the  Empire.  The  in- 
terior of  Asia  Minor  up  to  the  Euphrates,  with  Syria 
and  Egypt,  were  under  sovereigns  called  Allies,  but, 
like  the  native  princes  in  India,  subject  to  a  Roman 
protectorate.  Over  this  enormous  territory,  rich  Avith 
the  accumulated  treasures  of  centuries,  and  inhabited 
by  thriving,  industrious  races,  the  energetic  Roman 
men  of  business  had  spread  and  settled  themselves, 
gathering  into  their  hands  the  trade,  the  financial 
administration,  the  entire  commercial  control  of 
the  Mediterranean  basin.  They  had  been  trained  in 
thrift  and  economy,  in  abhorrence  of  debt,  in  strictest 
habits  of  close  and  careful  management.  Their  frugal 
education,  their  early  lessons  in  the  value  of  money, 
good  and  excellent  as  those  lessons  were,  led  them,  as 
a  matter  of  course,  to  turn  to  account  their  extraor- 
dinary opportunities.  Governors  with  their  staffs, 
permanent  officials,  contractors  for  the  revenue,  nego- 
tiators, bill-brokers,  bankers,  merchants,  were  scattered 
everywhere  in  thousands.  Money  poured  in  upon 
them  in  rolling  streams  of  gold.  The  largest  share 
of  the  spoils  fell  to  the  Senate  and  the  senatorial  fam- 
ilies. The  Senate  was  the  permanent  Council  of 
State,  and  was  the  real  administrator  of  the  Empire. 
The  Senate  had  the  control  of  the  treasury,  conducted 
the  public  policy,  appointed  from  its  own  ranks  the 
governors  of  the  provinces.  It  was  patrician  in  sen- 
timent, but  not  necessarily  patrician  in  composition. 
The  members  of  it  had  virtually  been  elected  for  life 
by  the  people,  and  were  almost  entirely  those  who  had 


16  Ccesar, 

been  quaestors,  sediles,  praetors,  or  consuls ;  and  these 
offices  had  been  long  open  to  the  plebeians.  It  was 
an  aristocrac3^  in  theory  a  real  one,  but  tending  to 
become,  as  civilization  went  forward,  an  aristocracy 
of  the  rich.  How  the  senatorial  privileges  affected 
the  management  of  the  provinces  will  be  seen  more 
particularly  as  we  go  on.  It  is  enough  at  present  to 
say  that  the  nobles  and  great  commoners  of  Rome 
rapidly  found  themselves  in  possession  of  revenues 
which  their  fathers  could  not  have  imagined  in  their 
dreams,  and  money  in  the  stage  of  progress  at  which 
Rome  bad  arrived  was  convertible  into  power. 

The  opportunities  opened  for  men  to  advance  their 
fortunes  in  other  parts  of  the  world  drained  Italy  of 
many  of  its  most  enterprising  citizens.  The  grand- 
sons of  the  yeomen  who  had  held  at  bay  Pyrrhus  and 
Hannibal  sold  their  farms  and  went  away.  The  small 
holdings  merged  rapidly  into  large  estates  bought  up 
by  the  Roman  capitalists.  At  the  final  settlement  of 
Italy,  some  millions  of  acres  had  been  reserved  to  the 
State  as  public  property.  The  "  public  land,"  as  the 
reserved  portion  was  called,  had  been  leased  on  easy 
terms  to  families  with  political  influence,  and  by  lapse 
of  time,  by  connivance  and  right  of  occupation, 
these  families  were  beginning  to  regard  their  tenures 
as  their  private  property,  and  to  treat  them  as  lords 
of  manors  in  England  have  treated  the  "  commons." 
Thus  everywhere  the  small  farmers  were  disappear- 
ing, and  the  soil  of  Italy  was  fast  passing  into  the 
hands  of  a  few  territorial  magnates,  who,  unfort- 
unately (for  it  tended  to  aggravate  the  mischief), 
were  enabled  by  another  cause  to  turn  their  vast  pos- 
sessions to  advantage.  The  conquest  of  the  world 
had  turned  the  flower  of  the  defeated  nations  into 


Moman  Slavery*  17 

slaves.  The  prisoners  taken  either  after  a  battle,  or 
when  cities  surrendered  unconditionally,  were  bought 
up  steadily  by  contractors  who  followed  in  the  rear 
of  the  Roman  armies.  They  were  not  ignorant  like 
the  negroes,  but  trained,  useful,  and  often  educated 
men,  Asiatics,  Greeks,  Thracians,  Gauls,  and  Span- 
iards, able  at  once  to  turn  their  hands  to  some  form 
of  skilled  labor,  either  as  clerks,  mechanics,  or  farm 
servants.  The  great  land-owners  might  have  paused 
in  their  purchases  had  the  alternative  lain  before 
them  of  letting  their  lands  lie  idle  or  of  having  free- 
men to  cultivate  them.  It  was  otherwise  when  a 
resource  so  convenient  and  so  abundant  was  opened 
at  their  feet.  The  wealthy  Romans  bought  slaves 
by  thousands.  Some  they  employed  in  their  work- 
shops in  the  capital.  Some  they  spread  over  their 
plantations,  covering  the  country,  it  might  be,  with 
olive  gardens  and  vineyards,  swelling  further  the 
plethoric  figures  of  their  owners'  incomes.  It  was 
convenient  for  the  few,  but  less  convenient  for  the 
Commonwealth.  The  strength  of  Rome  was  in  her 
free  citizens.  Where  a  family  of  slaves  was  settled 
down,  a  village  of  freemen  had  disappeared  ;  the 
material  for  the  legions  diminished  ;  the  dregs  of  the 
free  population  which  remained  behind  crowded  into 
Rome,  without  occupation,  except  in  politics,  and 
with  no  property  save  in  their  votes,  of  course  to  be- 
come the  clients  of  the  millionnaires,  and  to  sell 
themselves  to  the  highest  bidders.  With  all  his 
wealth  there  were  but  two  things  which  the  Roman 
noble  could  buy  —  political  power  and  luxury,, —  and 
in  these  directions  his  whole  resources  were  expended. 
The  elections,  once  pure,  became  matters  of  annual 
bargain   between  himself  and  his  supporters.     The 


18  CoBsar, 

once  hardy,  abstemious  mode  of  living  degenerated 
into  grossness  and  sensuality. 

And  his  character  was  assailed  simultaneously  on 
another  side  with  equally  mischievous  effect.  The 
conquest  of  Greece  brought  to  Rome  a  taste  for  knowl- 
edge and  culture;  but  the  culture  seldom  passed 
below  the  surface,  and  knowledge  bore  but  the  old 
fralt  which  it  had  borne  in  Eden.  The  elder  Cato 
used  to  say  that  the  Romans  were  like  their  slaves  — 
the  less  Greek  they  knew  the  better  they  were. 
They  had  believed  in  the  gods  with  pious  simplicity. 
The  Greeks  introduced  them  to  an  Olympus  of  di- 
vinities whom  the  practical  Roman  found  that  he 
must  either  abhor  or  deny  to  exist.  The  "  Virtues  " 
which  he  had  been  taught  to  reverence  had  no  place 
among  the  graces  of  the  new  theology.  Reverence 
Jupiter  he  could  not,  and  it  was  easy  to  persuade 
him  that  Jupiter  was  an  illusion  ;  that  all  religions 
were  but  the  creations  of  fancy,  his  own  among  them. 
Gods  there  might  be,  airy  beings  in  the  deeps  of 
space,  engaged  like  men  with  their  own  enjoyments ; 
but  to  suppose  that  these  high  spirits  fretted  them- 
selves with  the  affairs  of  the  puny  beings  that 
crawled  upon  the  earth  was  a  delusion  of  vanity. 
Thus,  while  morality  was  assailed  on  one  side  by  ex- 
traordinary temptations,  the  religious  sanction  of  it 
was  undermined  on  the  other.  The  Romans  ceased 
to  believe,  and  in  losing  their  faith  they  became  as 
steel  becomes  when  it  is  demagnetized  :  the  spiritual 
quality  was  gone  out  of  them,  and  the  high  society 
of  Rome  itself  became  a  society  of  powerful  animals 
with  an  enormous  appetite  for  pleasure.  Wealth 
poured  ir^  more  and  more,  and  luxury  grew  more  un- 
bounded.    Palaces  sprang  up  in  the  city,  castles  in 


The  Roman  Nolle,  19 

the  country,  villas  at  pleasant  places  by  the  sea,  and 
parks,  and  fish-poncls,  and  game  preserves,  and 
gardens,  and  vast  retinues  of  servants.  When  nat- 
ural pleasures  had  been  indulged  in  to  satiety,  pleas- 
ures which  were  against  nature  were  imported  from 
the  East  to  stimulate  the  exhausted  appetite.  To 
make  money  — money  by  any  means,  lawful  or  un- 
lawful—  became  the  universal  passion.  Even  the 
most  cultivated  patricians  were  coarse  alike  in  their 
habits  and  their  amusements.  They  cared  for  art  as 
dilettanti,  but  no  schools  either  of  sculpture  or  paint- 
ing were  formed  among  themselves.  They  decorated 
their  porticoes  and  their  saloons  with  the  plunder  of 
the  East.  The  stage  was  never  more  than  an  ar- 
tificial taste  with  them  ;  their  delight  was  the  delight 
of  barbarians,  in  spectacles,  in  athletic  exercises,  in 
horse-races  and  chariot  races,  in  the  combats  of  wild 
animals  in  the  circus,  combats  of  men  with  beasts  on 
choice  occasions,  and,  as  a  rare  excitement,  in  fights 
between  men  and  men,  when  select  slaves  trained  as 
gladiators  were  matched  in  pairs  to  kill  each  other. 
Moral  habits  are  all-sufficient  while  they  last  ;  but 
with  rude  strong  natures  they  are  but  chains  which 
hold  the  passions  prisoners.  Let  the  chain  break,  and 
the  released  brute  is  but  the  more  powerful  for  evil 
from  the  force  which  his  constitution  has  inherited. 
Money  I  the  cry  was  still  money !  —  money  was  the 
one  thought  from  the  highest  senator  to  the  poorest 
wretch  who  sold  his  vote  in  the  Comitia.  For  money 
judges  gave  unjust  decrees  and  juries  gave  corrupt 
verdicts.  Governors  held  their  provinces  for  one, 
two,  or  three  years ;  they  went  out  bankrupt  from 
extra"*'agance,  they  returned  with  millions  for  fresh 
riot.      To  obtain  a  province  was  the  first  ambition 


20  Ccesar. 

o-f  a  Roman  noble.  The  road  to  it  lay  through  the 
prsetorsiiip  and  the  consulship ;  tliese  offices,  there- 
fore, became  the  prizes  of  the  State ;  and  being  in 
the  gift  of  the  people,  they  were  sought  after  by 
means  which  demoralized  alike  the  givers  and  the  re- 
ceivers. The  elections  were  managed  by  clubs  and 
coteries  ;  and,  except  on  occasions  of  national  danger 
or  political  excitement,  those  who  spent  most  freely 
were  most  certain  of  success. 

Under  these  conditions  the  chief  powers  in  the  Com- 
monwealth necessarily  centred  in  the  rich.  There 
was  no  longer  an  aristocracy  of  birth,  still  less  of 
virtue.  The  patrician  families  had  the  start  in  the 
race.  Great  names  and  great  possessions  came  to 
them  by  inheritance.  But  the  door  of  promotion 
was  open  to  all  Avho  had  the  golden  key.  The  great 
commoners  bought  their  way  into  the  magistracies. 
From  the  magistracies  they  passed  into  the  Senate  ; 
and  the  Roman  senator,  though  in  Rome  itself  and 
in  free  debate  among  his  colleagues  he  was  handled 
as  an  ordinarj?-  man,  when  he  travelled  had  the  honors 
of  a  sovereign.  The  three  hundred  senators  of  Rome 
were  three  hundred  princes.  They  moved  about  in 
other  countries  with  the  rights  of  legates,  at  the  ex- 
pense of  the  province,  with  their  trains  of  slaves  and 
horses.  The  proud  privilege  of  Roman  citizenship 
was  still  jealously  reserved  to  Rome  itself  and  to  a 
few  favored  towns  and  colonies ;  and  a  mere  subject 
could  maintain  no  rights  against  a  member  of  the 
haughty  oligarchy  which  controlled  the  civilized 
world.  Such  generally  the  Roman  Republic  had  be- 
come, or  was  tending  to  become,  in  the  years  which 
followed  the  fall  of  Carthage,  B.  c.  146.  Public 
spirit  in  the  masses  was  dead  or  sleeping ;  the  Com- 


Beginnings  of  Discontent.  21 

mon  weal  til  was  a  plutocracy.  The  free  forms  of  the 
constitution  were  themselves  the  instruments  of  cor- 
ruption. The  rich  were  happy  in  the  possession  of 
all  that  they  could  desire.  The  multitude  was  kept 
quiet  by  the  morsels  of  meat  which  were  flung  to  it 
when  it  threatened  to  be  troublesome.  The  seven 
thousand  in  Israel,  the  few  who  in  all  states  and  in 
all  times  remain  pure  in  the  midst  of  evil,  looked  on 
with  disgust,  fearing  that  any  remedy  which  they 
might  try  might  be  worse  than  the  disease.  All  or- 
ders in  a  society  may  be  wise  and  virtuous,  but  all 
cannot  be  rich.  Wealth  which  is  used  only  for  idle 
luxury  is  always  envied,  and  envy  soon  curdles  into 
hate.  It  is  easy  to  persuade  the  masses  that  the  good 
things  of  this  world  are  unjustly  divided,  especially 
when  it  happens  to  be  the  exact  truth.  It  is  not 
easy  to  set  limits  to  an  agitation  once  set  on  foot, 
however  justly  it  may  have  been  provoked,  when  the 
cry  for  change  is  at.  once  stimulated  by  interest  and 
can  disguise  its  real  character  under  the  passionate 
language  of  patriotism.  But  it  was  not  to  be  ex- 
pected that  men  of  noble  natures,  young  men  espe- 
cially whose  enthusiasm  had  not  been  cooled  by  expe- 
rience, would  sit  calmly  by  while  their  country  was 
going  thus  headlong  to  perdition.  Redemption,  if  re- 
demption was  to  be  hoped  for,  could  come  only  from 
free  citizens  in  the  country  districts  whose  manners 
and  whose  minds  were  still  uncontaminated,  in  whom 
the  ancient  habits  of  life  still  survived,  who  still  be- 
lieved in  the  gods,  who  were  contented  to  follow  the 
wholesome  round  of  honest  labor.  The  numbers  of 
Buch  citizens  were  fast  dwindling  away  before  the 
omnivorous  appetite  of  the  rich  for  territorial  aggran- 
dizement.    To  rescue  the  land  from  the  monopolists, 


22  Coesar, 

to  renovate  the  old  independent  yeomanry,  to  pre- 
vent the  free  population  of  Italy,  out  of  which  the 
legions  had  been  formed  which  had  built  up  the  Em- 
pire, from  being  pushed  out  of  their  places  and  sup- 
planted by  foreign  slaves,  this,  if  it  could  be  done, 
would  restore  the  purity  of  the  constituency,  snatch 
the  elections  from  the  control  of  corruption,  and  rear 
up  fresh  generations  of  peasant  soldiers  to  preserve 
the  liberties  and  the  glories  which  their  fathers  had 
won. 


CHAPTER  III. 

TiBEKius  Geacchus  was  born  about  the  year  1G4 
B.  c.  Pie  was  one  of  twelve  children,  nme  of  whom 
died  in  infancy,  himself,  his  brother  Caius,  and  his 
sister  Cornelia  being  the  only  survivors.  His  family 
was  plebeian,  but  of  high  antiquity,  his  ancestors  for 
several  generations  having  held  the  highest  offices 
in  the  Republic.  On  the  mother's  side  he  was  the 
grandson  of  Scipio  Africanus.  His  father,  after  a 
distinguished  career  as  a  soldier  in  Spain  and  Sar- 
dinia, had  attempted  reforms  at  Rome.  He  had  been 
censor,  and  in  this  capacity  he  had  ejected  disreputa- 
ble senators  from  the  Curia ;  he  had  degraded  of- 
fending Equites ;  he  had  rearranged  and  tried  to 
purify  the  Comitia.  But  his  connections  were  aris- 
tocratic. His  wife  was  the  daughter  of  the  most  il- 
lustrious of  the  Scipios.  His  own  daughter  was 
married  to  the  second  most  famous  of  them,  Scipio 
Africanus  the  Younger.  He  had  been  himself  in  an- 
tagonism with  the  tribunes,  and  had  taken  no  part  at 
any  time  in  popular  agitations. 

The  father  died  when  Tiberius  was  still  a  boy, 
and  the  two  brothers  grew  up  under  the  care  of 
their  mother,  a  noble  and  gifted  lady.  They  dis- 
played early  remarkable  talents.  .  Tiberius,  when  ^Id 
enough,  went  into  the  army,  and  served  under  his 
brother-in-law  in  the  last  Carthaginian  campaign. 
He  was  first  on  the  walls  of  the  city  in  the  final 
»torm.     Ten  years  later  he  went  to  Spain  as  Quaes- 


24  Ccesar, 

tor,  where  lie  carried  on  his  father's  popularit}^,  and 
by  taking  the  people's  side  in  some  questions  fell  into 
disagreement  with  his  brother-in-law.  His  political 
vie  Wo  had  perhaps  ah-eady  inclined  to  change.  He 
was  still  of  an  age  when, indignation  at  oppression 
calls  out  a  practical  desire  to  resist  it.  On  his  jour- 
ney home  from  Spain  he  witnessed  scenes  which  con- 
firmed his  conviction  and  determined  him  to  throw 
all  his  energies  into  the  popular  cause.  His  road  lay 
through  Tuscany,  where  he  saw  the  large  estate  sys- 
tem in  full  operation  —  the  fields  cultivated  by  the 
slave  gangs,  the  free  citizens  of  the  Republic  thrust 
away  into  the  towns,  aliens  and  outcasts  in  their  own 
country,  without  a  foot  of  soil  which  they  could  call 
their  own.  In  Tuscany,  too,  the  vast  domains  of  the 
landlords  had  not  even  been  fairly  purchased.  They 
were  parcels  of  the  ager  publicus,  land  belonging  to 
the  State,  which,  in  spite  of  a  law  forbidding  it, 
the  great  lords  and  commoners  had  appropriated  and 
divided  among  themselves.  Five  hundred  acres  of 
State  land  was  the  most  which  by  statute  any  one 
lessee  might  be  allowed  to  occupy.  But  the  laAV  was 
obsolete  or  sleeping,  and  avarice  and  vanity  w^ere 
awake  and  active.  Young  Gracchus,  in  indignant 
pity,  resolved  to  rescue  the  people's  patrimony.  He 
was  chosen  tribune  in  the  year  183.  His  brave 
mother  and  a  few  patricians  of  the  old  type  encour- 
aged him,  and  the  battle  of  the  revolution  began. 
The  Senate,  as  has  been  said,  though  without  direct 
legislative  authority,  had  been  allowed  the  right  of 
reviewing  any  new  schemes  which  were  to  be  sub- 
mitted to  the  assembly.  The  constitutional  means 
of  preventing  tribunes  from  carrying  unwise  or  un- 
welcome measures  lay  in  a  consul's  veto,  or  iu  the 


The  G-racchL  25 

help  of  the  College  of  Augurs,  who  could  declare 
the  auspices  unfavorable,  and  so  close  all  public  busi- 
ness. These  resources  were  so  awkward  that  it  had 
been  found  convenient  to  secure  beforehand  the  Sen- 
atti's  approbation,  and  the  encroachment,  being  long 
submitted  to,  was  passing  by  custom  into  a  rule. 
But  the  Senate,  eager  as  it  was,  had  not  yet  suc- 
ceeded in  engrafting  the  practice  into  the  constitu- 
tion. On  the  land  question  the  leaders  of  the  aris- 
tocracy were  the  principal  offenders.  Disregarding 
usage,  and  conscious  that  the  best  men  of  all  ranks 
were  with  him,  Tiberius  Gracchus  appealed  directly 
to  the  people  to  revive  the  Agrarian  law.  His  pro- 
posals were  not  extravagant.  That  they  should  have 
been  deemed  extravagant  was  a  proof  of  how  much 
some  measure  of  the  kind  was  needed.  Where  lands 
had  been  inclosed  and  money  laid  out  on  them  he 
was  willing  that  the  occupants  should  have  compen- 
Bation.  But  they  had  no  right  to  the  lands  them- 
selves. Gracchus  persisted  that  the  ager  puhlieus 
belonged  to  the  people,  and  that  the  race  of  yeomen, 
for  whose  protection  the  law  had  been  originally 
passed,  must  be  reestablished  on  their  farms.  No 
form  of  property  gives  to  its  owners  so  much  conse- 
quence as  land,  and  there  is  no  point  on  which  in 
every  country  an  aristocracy  is  more  sensitive.  The 
lai'ge  owners  protested  that  they  had  purchased  their 
interests  on  the  faith  that  the  law  was  obsolete. 
They  had  planted  and  built  and  watered  with  the 
sanction  of  the  Government,  and  to  call  their  titles  in 
question  was  to  shake  the  foundations  of  society. 
The  popular  party  pointed  to  the  statute.  The  mo- 
nopolists were  entitled  in  justice  to  less  than  was 
offered  them.     They  had  no  right  to  a  compensation 


26  Ccemr, 

at  all.  Political  passion  awoke  again  after  tlie  sleep 
of  a  century.  The  oligarchy  had  doubtless  con- 
nived at  the  accumulations.  The  suppression  of  the 
small  holdings  favored  their  supremacy,  and  placed 
the  elections  more  completely  in  their  control.  Their 
military  successes  had  given  them  so  long  a  tenure  of 
power  that  they  had  believed  it  to  be  theirs  in  per- 
petuity ;  and  the  new  sedition,  as  they  called  it, 
threatened  at  once  their  privileges  and  their  fortunes. 
The  quarrel  assumed  tlie  familiar  form  of  a  struggle 
between  the  rich  and  the  poor,  and  at  such  times  the 
mob  of  voters  becomes  less  easy  to  corrupt.  They 
go  with  their  order,  as  the  prospect  of  larger  gain 
makes  them  indifferent  to  immediate  bribes.  It  be- 
came clear  that  the  majority  of  the  citizens  would 
support  Tiberius  Gracchus,  but  the  constitutional 
forms  of  opposition  might  still  be  resorted  to.  Octa- 
vius  Csecina,  another  of  the  tribunes,  had  himself  large 
interests  in  the  land  question.  He  was  the  people's 
magistrate,  one  of  the  body  appointed  especially  to 
defend  their  rights,  but  he  went  over  to  the  Senate, 
and,  using  a  power  which  undoubtedly  belonged  to 
him,  he  forbade  the  vote  to  be  taken. 

There  was  no  precedent  for  the  removal  of  either 
consul,  praetor,  or  tribune,  except  under  circumstances 
very  different  from  any  which  could  as  yet  be  said 
to  have  arisen.  The  magistrates  held  office  for  a 
year  only,  and  the  power  of  veto  had  been  allowed 
them  expressly  to  secure  time  for  deliberation  and 
to  prevent  passionate  legislation.  But  Gracchus  was 
young  and  enthusiastic.  Precedent  or  no  precedent, 
the  citizens  were  omnipotent.  He  invited  them  to 
declare  his  colleague  deposed.  They  had  warmed  to 
the  fight  and  complied.     A  more  experienced  states- 


The  G-racchi.       •  27 

man  would  have  kno^\^l  that  established  constitu- 
tional bulwarks  cannot  be  swept  away  by  a  momen- 
tary vote.  He  obtained  his  Agrarian  law.  Three 
commissioners  were  appointed,  himself,  his  younger 
brother,  and  his  father-in-law,  Appius  Claudius,  to 
carry  it  into  effect ;  but  the  very  names  showed  that 
he  had  alienated  his  few  supporters  in  the  higher 
circles,  and  that  a  single  family  was  now  contending 
against  the  united  wealth  and  distinction  of  Rome. 
The  issue  was  only  too  certain.  Popular  enthusiasm 
is  but  a  fire  of  straw.  In  a  year  Tiberius  Gracchus 
would  be  out  of  office.  Other  tribunes  would  be 
chosen  more  amenable  to  influence,  and  his  work 
could  then  be  undone.  He  evidently  knew  that  those 
who  would  succeed  him  could  not  be  relied  on  to 
carry  on  his  policy.  He  had  taken  one  revolutionary 
step  already ;  he  was  driven  on  to  another,  and  he 
offered  himself  illegally  to  the  Comitia  for  reelection. 
It  was  to  invite  them  to  abolish  the  constitution  and 
to  make  him  virtual  sovereign  ;  and  that  a  young 
man  of  thirty  should  have  contemplated  such  a  posi- 
tion for  himself  as  possible  is  of  itself  a  proof  of  his 
unfitness  for  it.  The  election  day  came.  The  noble 
lords  and  gentlemen  appeared  in  the  Campus  Martins 
with  their  retinues  of  armed  servants  and  clients; 
hot-blooded  aristocrats,  full  of  disdain  for  dema- 
gogues, and  meaning  to  read  a  lesson  to  sedition 
which  it  would  not  easily  forget.  Votes  were  given 
for  Gracchus.  Had  the  hustings  been  left  to  decide 
the  matter,  he  would  have  been  chosen  ;  but  as  it 
began  to  appear  how  the  polling  would  go,  sticks 
were  used  and  swords  ;  a  riot  rose,  the  unarmed  citi- 
zens were  driven  off,  Tiberius  Gracchus  himself  and 
three  hundred  of  his  friends  were  killed  and  their 
bodies  were  flung  into  the  Tiber. 


28  •  Ccesar. 

Thus  the  first  sparks  of  the  coming  revolution  were 
trampled  out.  But  though  quenched  and  to  be  again 
quenched  with  fiercer  struggles,  it  was  to  smoulder 
and  smoke  and  burst  out  time  after  time,  till  its 
work  was  done.  Revolution  could  not  restore  the 
ancient  character  of  the  Roman  nation,  but  it  could 
check  the  progress  of  decay  by  burning  away  the 
more  corrupted  parts  of  it.  It  could  destroy  the 
aristocracy  and  the  constitution  which  they  had  de- 
praved, and  under  other  forms  preserve  for  a  few 
more  centuries  the  Roman  dominion.  Scipio  Afri- 
canus,  when  he  heard  in  Spain  of  the  end  of  his 
brother-in-law,  exclaimed  "  May  all  who  act  as  he  did 
perish  like  liim !  "  There  were  to  be  victims  enough 
and  to  spare  before  the  bloody  drama  was  played 
out.  Quiet  lasted  for  ten  years,  and  then,  precisely 
when  he  had  reached  his  brother's  age,  Caius  Grac- 
chus came  forward  to  avenge  him,  and  carry  the 
movement  through  another  stage.  Young  Caius  had 
been  left  one  of  the  commissioners  of  the  land  law ; 
and  it  is  particularly  noticeable  tliat  though  the 
author  of  it  had  been  killed,  the  law  had  survived 
him,  being  too  clearly  right  and  politic  in  itself  to  be 
openly  set  aside.  For  two  years  the  commissioners 
had  continued  to  work,  and  in  that  time  forty  thou- 
sand families  were  settled  on  various  parts  of  the 
ager  puhlieus,  which  the  patricians  had  been  com- 
pelled to  resign.  This  was  all  which  they  could  do. 
The  displacement  of  one  set  of  inhabitants  and  the 
introduction  of  another  could  not  be  accomplished 
without  quarrels,  complaints,  and  perhaps  some  in- 
justice. Those  who  were  ejected  were  always  exas- 
perated. Those  who  entered  on  possession  were  not 
always  satisfied.     The  commissioners  became  unpop- 


The   Gracchi,  29 

alar.  When  the  cries  against  them  became  loud 
enough,  they  were  suspended,  and  the  law  was  then 
quietly  repealed.  The  Senate  had  regained  its  hold 
over  the  assembly,  and  had  a  further  opportunity  of 
showing  its  recovered  ascendency  when,  two  years 
after  the  murder  of  Tiberius  Gracchus,  one  of  his 
friends  introduced  a  bill  to  make  the  tribunes  legally 
reeligible.  Caius  Gracchus  actively  supported  the 
change,  but  it  had  no  success ;  and,  waiting  till  times 
had  altered,  and  till  he  had  arrived  himself  at  an  age 
when  he  could  carry  weight,  the  young  brother  re- 
tired from  politics,  and  spent  the  next  few  years  with 
the  army  in  Africa  and  Sardinia.  He  served  with 
distinction ;  he  made  a  name  for  himself,  both  as  a 
soldier  and  an  administrator.  Had  the  Senate  left 
him  alone,  he  might  have  been  satisfied  with  a  regu- 
lar career,  and  have  risen  by  the  ordinary  steps  to  the 
consulship.  But  the  Senate  saw  in  him  the  possibil- 
ities of  a  second  Tiberius  ;  the  higher  his  reputation, 
the  more  formidable  he  became  to  them.  They 
vexed  him  with  petty  prosecutions,  charged  him  with 
crimes  which  had  no  existence,  and  at  length  by  sus 
picion  and  injustice  drove  him  into  open  war  witW 
them.  Caius  Gracchus  had  a  broader  intellect  than 
his  brother,  and  a  character  considerably  less  noble. 
The  land  question  he  perceived  was  but  one  of  many 
questions.  The  true  source  of  the  disorders  of  the 
Commonwealth  was  the  Senate  itself.  The  adminis- 
tration of  the  Empire  was  in  the  hands  of  men  to- 
tally unfit  to  be  trusted  with  it,  and  there  he  thought 
the  reform  must  commence.  He  threw  himself  on 
the  people.  He  was  chosen  tribune  in  123,  ten  years 
exactly  after  Tiberius.  He  had  studied  the  disposi- 
tion of  parses.     He  had  seen  his  brother  fall  because 


80  Ccesar, 

the  Equites  and  the  senators,  tlie  great  commoners 
and  the  nobles,  were  combined  against  him.  He  re- 
vived the  Agrarian  law  as  a  matter  of  course,  but  he 
disarmed  the  opposition  to  it  by  throwing  an  apple  of 
discord  between  the  two  superior  orders.  The  high 
judicial  functions  in  the  Commonwealth  had  been 
hitherto  a  senatorial  monopoly.  All  cases  of  impor- 
tance, civil  or  criminal,  came  before  courts  of  sixty 
or  seventy  jurymen,  who,  as  the  law  stood,  must  be 
necessarily  senators.  The  privilege  had  been  ex- 
tremely lucrative.  The  corruption  of  justice  was  al- 
ready notorious,  though  it  had  not  yet  reached  the 
level  of  infamy  which  it  attained  in  another  genera- 
tion. It  was  no  secret  that  in  ordinary  causes  jury- 
Tuen  had  sold  their  verdicts  ;  amd  far  short  of  taking 
bribes  in  the  direct  sense  of  the  word,  there  were 
many  ways  in  which  they  could  let  themselves  be  ap- 
proached, and  their  favor  purchased.  A  monopoly 
of  privileges  is  always  invidious.  A  monopoly  in  the 
sale  of  justice  is  alike  hateful  to  those  who  abhor  in- 
iquity on  principle  and  to  those  \vho  would  like  to 
share  the  profits  of  it.  But  this  was  not  the  worst. 
The  governors  of  the  provinces,  being  chosen  from 
those  who  had  been  consuls  or  praetors,  were  necessa- 
rily members  of  the  Senate.  Peculation  and  extor- 
tion in  these  high  functions  were  offences  in  theory 
of  the  gravest  kind  ;  but  the  offender  could  only  be 
tried  before  a  limited  number  of  his  peers,  and  a  gov- 
ernor who  had  plundered  a  subject  state,  sold  justice, 
pillaged  temples,  and  stolen  all  that  he  could  lay 
hands  on,  was  safe  from  punishment  if  he  returned 
\o  Rome  a  millionnaire  and  would  admit  others  to  a 
jhare  in  his  spoils.  The  provincials  might  send  dep- 
itations  to  complain,  but  these  complaints  came  be- 


The   Gracchi.  31. 

fore  men  who  had  themselves  governed  provinces  or 
else  aspired  to  govern  them.  It  had  been  proved  in 
too  many  instances  that  the  law  which  professed  to 
protect  them  was  a  mere  mockery. 

Caius  Gracchus  secured  the  affections  of  the  knights 
to  himself,  and  some  slightly  increased  chance  of  an 
improvement  in  the  provincial  administration,  by 
carrying  a  law  in  the  assembly  disabling  the  senators 
from  sitting  on  juries  of  any  kind  from. that  day  for- 
ward, and  transferring  the  judicial  functions  to  the 
Equites.  How  bitterly  must  such  a  measure  have 
been  resented  by  the  Senate,  which  at  once  robbed 
them  of  their  protective  and  profitable  privileges, 
handed  them  over  to  be  tried  by  their  rivals  for  their 
pleasant  irregularities,  and  stamped  them  at  the  same 
time  with  the  brand  of  dishonest}^  !  How  certainly 
must  such  a  measure  have  been  deserved  when  neither 
consul  nor  tribune  could  be  found  to  interpose  his 
vote !  Supported  by  the  grateful  knights,  Caius 
Gracchus  was  for  the  moment  all  powerful.  It  was 
not  enough  to  restore  the  Agrarian  law.  He  passed 
another  aimed  at  his  brother's  murderers,  which  was 
to  bear  fruit  in  later  years,  that  no  Roman  citizen 
might  be  put  to  death  by  any  person,  however  high 
in  authority,  without  legal  trial,  and  without  appeal, 
if  he  chose  to  make  it,  to  the  sovereign  people.  A 
blow  was  thus  struck  against  another  right  claimed 
by  the  Senate,  of  declaring  the  Republic  in  danger, 
and  the  temporary  suspension  of  the  constitution. 
These  measures  might  be  excused,  and  perhaps  com- 
mended; but  the  younger  Gracchus  connected  his 
name  with  another  change  less  commendable,  which 
was  destined  also  to  survive  and  bear  fruit.  He 
brought  forward  and  carried  through,  with  enthusi- 


82  '  Ccesar, 

astic  clapping  of  every  pair  of  hands  in  Rome  thai 
were  hardened  with  labor,  a  proposal  that  there 
should  be  public  granaries  in  the  city,  maintained 
and  filled  at  the  cost  of  the  State,  and  that  corn  should 
be  sold  at  a  rate  artificially  cheap  to  the  poor  free 
citizens.  Such  a  law  was  purely  socialistic.  The  priv- 
ilege was  confined  to  Rome,  because  in  Rome  the  elec- 
tions were  held,  and  the  Roman  constituency  was  the 
one  depositary  of  power.  The  effect  was  to  gather 
into  the  city  a  mob  of  need}^,  unemployed  voters,  liv- 
ing on  the  charity  of  the  State,  to  crowd  the  circus 
and  to  clamor  at  the  elections,  available  no  doubt 
immediately  to  strengthen  the  hands  of  the  popular 
tribune,  but  certain  in  the  long  run  to  sell  themselves 
to  those  who  could  bid  highest  for  their  voices.  Ex- 
cuses could  be  found,  no  doubt,  for  this  miserable 
expedient,  in  the  state  of  parties,  in  the  unscrupulous 
violence  of  the  aristocracy,  in  the  general  impoverish- 
ment of  the  peasantry  through  the  land  monopoly, 
and  in  the  intrusion  upon  Italy  of  a  gigantic  system 
of  slave  labor.  But  none  the  less  it  was  the  deadliest 
blow  which  had  yet  been  dealt  to  the  constitution. 
Party  government  turns  on  the  majorities  at  the 
polling  places,  and  it  was  difficult  afterwards  to  re- 
call a  privilege  which,  once  conceded,  appeared  to  be 
a  right.  The  utmost  that  could  be  ventured  in  later 
times  with  any  prospect  of  success  was  to  limit  an 
intolerable  evil ;  and  if  one  side  was  ever  strong 
enough  to  make  the  attempt,  their  rivals  had  a  bribe 
ready  in  their  hands  to  buy  back  the  popular  sup- 
port. Caius  Gracchus,  however,  had  his  way,  and 
carried  all  before  him.  He  escaped  the  rock  on 
which  his  brother  had  been  wrecked.  He  was  elected 
tribune  a  second  time.     He  might  have  had  a  third 


The   Gracchi.  33 

term  if  he  had  been  contented  to  be  a  mere  demagogue. 
But  he,  too,  like  Tiberius,  had  honorable  aims.  The 
powers  which  he  had  played  into  the  hands  of  the 
mob  to  obtain,  he  desired  to  use  for  high  purposes  of 
statesmanship,  and  his  instrument  broke  in  his  hands. 
He  was  too  wise  to  suppose  that  a  Roman  mob,  fed 
by  bounties  from  the  treasury,  could  permanently 
govern  the  world.  He  had  schemes  for  scattering 
Roman  colonies,  with  the  Roman  franchise,  at  various 
points  of  the  Empire.  Carthage  was  to  be  one  of 
them.  He  thought  of  abolishing  the  distinction  be- 
tween Romans  and  Italians,  and  enfranchising  the 
entire  peninsula.  These  measures  were  good  in 
themselves  —  essential,  indeed,  if  the  Roman  con- 
quests were  to  form  a  compact  and  permanent  do- 
minion. But  the  object  was  not  attainable  on  the 
road  on  which  Gracchus  had  entered.  The  vagabond 
part  of  the  constituency  was  well  contented  with 
what  it  had  obtained,  a  life  in  the  city,  supported 
at  the  public  expense,  with  politics  and  games  for 
its  amusements.  It  had  not  the  least  inclination  to 
be  drafted  off  into  settlements  in  Spain  or  Africa, 
where  there  would  be  work  instead  of  pleasant  idle- 
ness. Carthage  was  still  a  name  of  terror.  To  re- 
store Carthage  was  no  better  than  treason.  Still  less 
had  the  Roman  citizens  an  inclination  to  share  their 
privileges  with  Samnites  and  Etruscans,  and  see  the 
value  of  their  votes  watered  down.  Political  storms 
are  always  cyclones.  The  gale  from  the  east  to-day 
is  a  gale  from  the  west  to-morrow.  Who  and  what 
were  the  Gracchi  then  ?  —  the  sweet  voices  began  to 
ask  —  ambitious  intriguers,  aiming  at  dictatorship, 
or  perhaps  the  crown.  The  aristocracy  were  right 
jifter  all;  a  few  things   had  gone  wrong,  but  these 


34  Ccesar. 

had  been  amended.  The  Scipios  and  Metelli  had 
conquered  the  world :  the  Scipios  and  MeteUi  were 
alone  fit  to  govern  it.  Thus  when  the  election  time 
came  round,  the  party  of  reform  was  reduced  to  a 
minority  of  irreconcilable  radicals,  who  were  easily 
disposed  of.  Again,  as  ten  years  before,  the  noble 
lords  armed  their  followers.  Riots  broke  out  and 
extended  day  after  day.  Caius  Gracchus  was  at  last 
killed,  as  his  brother  had  been,  and  under  cover  of 
the  disturbance  three  thousand  of  his  friends  were 
killed  along  with  him.  The  power  being  again 
securely  in  their  hands,  the  Senate  proceeded  at  their 
leisure,  and  the  surviving  patriots  who  were  in  any 
way  notorious  or  dangerous  were  hunted  down  in 
legal  manner  and  put  to  death  or  banished. 


CHAPTER  IV. 

Cakts  Geacchus  was  killed  at  the  close  of  the 
year  122.  The  storm  was  over.  The  Senate  was 
once  more  master  of  the  situation,  and  the  Optimates, 
"  the  best  party  in  the  State,"  as  they  were  pleased 
to  call  themselves,  smoothed  their  ruffled  plumes  and 
settled  again  into  their  places.  There  was  no  more 
talk  of  reform.  Of  the  Gracchi  there  remained 
nothing  but  the  forty  thousand  peasant  proprietors 
settled  on  the  public  lands ;  the  Jury  law,  which 
could  not  be  at  once  repealed  for  fear  of  the  Equites; 
the  corn  grants,  and  the  mob  attracted  by  the  bounty, 
which  could  be  managed  by  improved  manipulation , 
and  the  law  protecting  the  lives  of  Roman  citizens, 
which  survived  in  the  statute  book,  although  the  Sen- 
ate still  claimed  the  right  to  set  it  aside  when  they 
held  the  State  to  be  in  danger.  With  these  excep- 
tions, the  administration  fell  back  into  its  old  condi- 
tion. The  tribunes  ceased  to  agitate.  The  consul- 
ships and  the  prsetorships  fell  to  the  candidates  whom 
the  Senate  supported.  Whether  the  oligarchy  had 
learnt  any  lessons  of  caution  from  the  brief  political 
earthquake  which  had  shaken  but  not  overthrown 
them,  remained  to  be  seen.  Six  years  after  the  mur- 
der of  Caius  Gracchus  an  opportunity  was  afforded  to 
this  distinguished  body  of  showing  on  a  conspicuous 
scale  the  material  of  which  they  were  now  composed. 

Along  the  south  shore  of  the  Mediterranean,  west 
of  the  Roman  province,  extended  the  two  kingdoms 


36  Ccesar, 

of  the  Nuraidians  and  the  Moors.  To  what  race 
these  people  belonged  is  not  precisely  known.  They 
were  not  Negroes.  The  Negro  tribes  have  never  ex- 
tended north  of  the  Sahara.  Nor  were  they  Cartha- 
ginians, or  allied  to  the  Carthaginians.  The  Cartha- 
ginian colony  found  them  in  possession  on  its'  arrival. 
Sallast  says  that  they  were  Persians  left  behind  by 
Hercules  after  his  invasion  of  Spain.  Sallust's  evi- 
dence proves  no  more  than  that  their  appearance  was 
Asiatic,  and  that  tradition  assigned  them  an  Asiatic 
origin.  They  may  be  called  generically  Arabs,  who 
at  a  very  ancient  time  had  spread  along  the  coast 
from  Egypt  to  Morocco.  The  Numidians  at  this 
period  were  civilized  according  to  the  manners  of  the 
age.  They  had  walled  towns ;  they  had  considera- 
ble wealth ;  their  lands  were  extensively  watered  and 
cultivated ;  their  great  men  had  country  houses  and 
villas,  the  surest  sign  of  a  settled  state  of  society. 
Among  the  equipments  of  their  army  they  had  nu- 
merous elephants  (it  may  be  presumed  of  the  African 
breed),  which  they  and  the  Carthaginians  had  cer- 
tainly succeeded  in  domesticating.  Masinissa,  the 
king  of  this  people,  had  been  the  ally  of  Rome  in  the 
last  Carthaginian  war;  he  had  been  afterwards  re- 
ceived as  "a  friend  of  the  Republic,"  and  was  one  of 
the  protected  sovereigns.  He  was  succeeded  by  his 
son  Micipsa,  who  in  turn  had  two  legitimate  childen, 
Hiempsal  and  Adherbal,  and  an  illegitimate  nephew 
Jugurtha,  considerably  older  than  his  own  boys,  a 
young  man  of  striking  talent  and  promise.  Micipsa, 
who  was  advanced  in  years,  was  afraid  that  if  he  died 
this  brilliant  youth  might  be  a  dangerous  rival  to  his 
sons.  He  therefore  sent  him  to  serve  under  Scipio  in 
Spain,  with  the  hope,  so  his  friends  asserted,  that  ho 


Jugurtha.  3'i 

might  there  perhaps  be  killed.  The  Roman  army 
was  then  engaged  in  the  siege  of  Numantia.  The 
camp  was  the  lounging  place  of  the  young  patricians 
who  were  tired  of  Rome,  and  wished  for  excitement. 
Discipline  had  fallen  loose ;  the  officers'  quarters  were 
the  scene  of  extravagance  and  amusement.  Jugur- 
tha recommended  himself  on  the  one  side  to  Scipio 
by  activity  and  good  service,  while  on  the  other  he 
made  acquaintances  among  the  high-bred  gentlemen 
in  the  mess-rooms.  He  found  them  in  themselves 
dissolute  and  unscrupulous.  He  discovered,  through 
communications,  which  he  was  able  with  their  assist- 
ance to  open  with  their  fathers  and  relatives  at  Rome, 
that  a  man  with  money  might  do  what  he  pleased. 
Micipsa's  treasury  was  well  supplied,  and  Jugurtha 
hinted  among  his  comrades  that,  if  he  could  be  secure 
of  countenance  in  seizing  the  kingdom,  he  would  be 
in  a  position  to  show  his  gratitude  in  a  substantial 
manner.  Some  of  these  conversations  reached  the 
ears  of  Scipio,  who  sent  for  Jugurtha  and  gave  him 
a  friendly  warning.  He  dismissed  him,  however, 
with  honor  at  the  end  of  the  campaign.  The  young 
prince  returned  to  Africa,  loaded  with  distinctions, 
and  the  king,  being  now  afraid  to  pass  him  over, 
named  him  as  joint-heir  with  his  children  to  a  third 
part  of  Numidia.  The  Numidians  perhaps  objected 
to  being  partitioned.  Micipsa  died  soon  after.  Ju- 
gurtha at  once  murdered  Hiempsal,  claimed  the  sov- 
ereignty, and  attacked  his  other  cousin.  Adherbal, 
closely  besieged  in  the  town  of  Cirta,  which  remained 
faithful  to  him,  appealed  to  Rome;  but  Jugurtha 
had  already  prepared  his  ground,  and  knew  that  he 
had  nothing  to  fear.  The  Senate  sent  out  commis- 
Bioners.      The    commissioners    received   the    bribes 


38  Coesar. 

wliich  they  expected.  They  gave  Jugurtha  general 
mstructions  to  leave  his  cousin  in  peace  ;  but  they 
did  not  wait  to  see  their  orders  obeyed,  and  went 
quietly  home.  The  natural  results  immediately  fol- 
lowed. Jugurtha  pressed  the  siege  more  resolutely. 
The  town  surrendered,  Adherbal  was  taken,  and  was 
put  to  death  after  being  savagely  tortured ;  and  there 
being  no  longer  any  competitor  alive  in  whose  behalf 
the  Senate  could  be  called  on  to  interfere,  he  thought 
himself  safe  from  further  interference.  Unfortu- 
nately in  the  capture  of  Cirta  a  number  of  Romans 
who  resided  there  had  been  killed  after  the  surren- 
der, and  after  a  promise  that  their  lives  should  be 
spared.  An  outcry  was  raised  in  Rome,  and  became 
so  loud  that  the  Senate  was  forced  to  promise  inves- 
tigation ;  but  it  went  to  work  languidl}^  with  reluc- 
tance so  evident  as  to  rouse  suspicion.  Notwithstand- 
ing the  fate  of  tha  Gracchi  and  their  friends,  Mem- 
mius,  a  tribune,  was  found  bold  enough  to  tell  the 
people  that  there  were  men  in  the  Senate  who  had 
taken  bribes. 

The  Senate,  conscious  of  its  guilt,  was  now  obliged 
to  exert  itself.  War  was  declared  against  Jugurtha, 
and  a  consul  was  sent  to  Africa  with  an  army.  But 
the  consul,  too,  had  his  fortune  to  make,  and  Micipsa's 
h-easures  were  still  unexpended.  The  consul  took 
with  him  a  staff  of  young  patricians,  whose  families 
might  be  counted  on  to  shield  him  in  return  for  a 
share  of  the  plunder.  Jugurtha  was  as  liberal  as 
avarice  could  desire,  and  peace  was  granted  to  him 
on  the  easy  conditions  of  a  nominal  fine,  and  the  sur- 
render of  some  elephants,  which  the  consul  privately 
restored. 

Public  opinion  was  singularly  patient.     The  mas- 


Jugurtha,  39 

sacre  six  years  before  Lad  killed  out  the  liberal  lead- 
ers, and  there  was  no  desire  on  any  side  as  yet  to  re- 
new the  struggle  with  the  Senate.  But  it  was  possible 
to  presume  too  far  on  popular  acquiescence.  Mem- 
inius  came  forward  again,  and  in  a  passionate  speech 
in  the  Forum  exposed  and  denounced  the  i^candalous 
transaction.  The  political  sky  began  to  blacken 
again.  The  Senate  could  not  face  another  storm 
with  so  bad  a  cause,  and  Jugurtha  was  sent  for  to 
Rome.  He  came,  with  contemptuous  confidence, 
loaded  with  gold.  He  could  not  corrupt  Memmius, 
but  he  bought  easily  the  rest  of  the  tribunes.  The 
leaders  in  the  Curia  could  not  quarrel  with  a  client 
of  such  delightful  liberality.  He  had  an  answer  to 
every  complaint,  and  a  fee  to  silence  the  complainer. 
He  would  have  gone  back  in  triumph,  had  he  not 
presumed  a  little  too  far.  He  had  another  cousin 
in  the  city  who  he  feared  might  one  day  give  him 
trouble,  so  he  employed  one  of  his  suite  to  poison 
him.  The  murder  was  accomplished  successfully; 
and  for  this  too  he  might  no  doubt  have  secured  his 
pardon  by  paying  for  it;  but  the  price  demanded  was 
too  high,  and  perhaps  Jugurtha,  villain  as  he  was, 
came  at  last  to  disdain  the  wretches  whom  he  might 
consider  fairly  to  be  worse  than  himself.  He  had 
come  over  under  a  safe  conduct,  and  he  was  not  de- 
tained. The  Senate  ordered  him  to  leave  Italy ;  and 
he  departed  with  the  scornful  phrase  on  his  lips 
w^hich  has  passed  into  history :  "  Venal  city,  and 
Boon  to  perish  if  only  it  can  find  a  purchaser."  ^ 
A  second  army  was  sent  across,  to  end  the  scandal. 

1  "Urbem  venalem,  et  mature  perituram,  si   emptorera   invenerit." 
Sa'.lust,  De  Bello  Jugmihino,  c.  35.     Livy's  account  of  the  business,  how- 
•Ter,  differs  from  Sallust's,  and  the  expression  is  perhaps  not  authentic. 


40  Ccesar. 

This  time  the  Senate  was  in  earnest,  but  the  work 
was  less  easy  than  was  expected.  Army  manage- 
ment had  fallen  into  disorder.  In  earlier  times  each 
Roman  citizen  had  provided  his  own  equipments  at 
his  own  expense.  To  be  a  soldier  was  part  of  the 
business  of  his  life,  and  military  training  was  an  es- 
sential feature  of  his  education.  The  old  system  had 
broken  down ;  the  peasantry,  from  whom  the  rank 
and  file  of  the  legions  had  been  recruited,  were  no 
longer  able  to  furnish  their  own  arms.  Caius  Grac- 
chus had  intended  that  arms  should  be  furnished  by 
the  government,  that  a  special  department  should  be 
constituted  to  take  charge  of  the  arsenals,  and  to  see 
to  the  distribution.  But  Gracchus  was  dead,  and  his 
project  had  died  with  him.  When  the  legions  were 
enrolled,  the  men  were  ill  armed,  undrilled,  and  un- 
provided—  a  mere 'mob,  gathered  hastily  together 
and  ignorant  of  the  first  elements  of  their  duty.  With 
the  ofiicers  it  was  still  worse.  The  subordinate  com- 
mands fell  to  young  patricians,  carpet  knights,  who 
went  on  campaigns  with  their  families  of  slaves.  The 
generals,  when  a  movement  was  to  be  made,  looked 
for  instruction  to  their  staff.  It  sometimes  happened 
that  a  consul  waited  for  his  election  to  open  for  the 
first  time  a  book  of  military  history  or  a  Greek  man- 
ual of  the  art  of  war.^ 

An  army  so  composed  and  so  led  was  not  likely  to 
prosper.  The  Numidians  were  not  very  formidable 
enemies,  but  after  a  month  or  two  of  manoeuvring, 
half  the  Romans  were  destroyed,  and  the  remainder 
were  obliged  to  surrender.    About  the  same  time,  and 

*'Atego  scio,  Quirites,  qui,  postquam  consules  facti  sunt,  acta  majo- 
rum,  et  Grsecorum  militaria  prjecepta  legere  coeperint :  Homines  pr»po»- 
teri!" — Speech  of  Marius,  Sallust,  Jugurtha,  85. 


Marius.  41 

from  similar  causes,  two  Roman  armies  were  cut  to 
pieces  on  the  Rhone.  While  the  great  men  at  Rome 
were  building  palaces,  inventing  new  dishes,  and  hir- 
ing cooks  at  unheard-of  salaries,  the  barbarians  were 
at  the  gates  of  Italy.  The  passes  of  the  Alps  were 
open,  and  if  a  few  tribes  of  Gauls  had  cared  to  pour 
through  them  the  Empire  was  at  their  mercy. 

Stung  with  these  accumulating  disgraces  and  now 
really  alarmed,  the  Senate  sent  Csecilius  ^ 
Metellus,  the  best  man  that  they  had  and 
the  consul  for  the  year  following,  to  Africa.  Metellus 
was  an  aristocrat,  and  he  was  advanced  in  years  ;  but 
he  was  a  man  of  honor  and  integrity.  He  understood 
the  danger  of  further  failure ;  and  he  looked  about 
for  the  ablest  soldier  that  he  could  find  to  go  with 
him,  irrespective  of  his  political  opinions. 

Cains  Marius  was  at  this  time  forty-eight  years 
old.  Two  thirds  of  his  life  were  over,  and  a  name 
which  was  to  sound  throughout  the  world  and  be  re- 
membered through  all  ages,  had  as  yet  been  scarcely 
heard  of  beyond  the  army  and  the  political  clubs  in 
Rome.  He  was  born  at  Arpinum,  a  Latin  township, 
seventy  miles  from  the  capital,  in  the  year  157.  His 
father  was  a  small  farmer,  and  he  was  himself  bred 
to  the  plough.  He  joined  the  army  early,  and  soon 
attracted  notice  by  his  punctual  discharge  of  his 
duties.  In  a  time  of  growing  looseness,  Marius  was 
strict  himself  in  keeping  discipline  and  in  enforcing 
it  as  he  rose  in  the  service.  He  was  in  Spain  when 
Jugurtha  was  there,  and  made  himself  especially  use- 
ful to  Scipio ;  he  forced  his  way  steadily  upwards,  by 
his  mere  soldierlike  qualities,  to  the  rank  of  military 
tribune.  Rome,  too,  had  learnt  to  know  him,  for  he 
was  chosen  tribune  of  the  people  the  year  after  the 


42  CcB%ar, 

murder  of  Caius  Gracchus.  Being  a  self-made  man, 
he  belonged  naturally  to  the  popular  party.  While 
in  office  he  gave  offence  in  some  way  to  the  men  in 
power,  and  was  called  before  the  Senate  to  answer 
for  himself.  But  he  had  the  right  on  his  side,  it  is 
likely,  for  they  found  him  stubborn  and  imperti- 
nent, and  they  could  make  nothing  of  their  charges 
against  him.  He  was  not  bidding  at  this  time,  how- 
ever, for  the  support  of  the  mob.  He  had  the  integ- 
rity and  sense  to  oppose  the  largesses  of  corn  ;  and  he 
forfeited  his  popularity  by  trying  to  close  the  public 
granaries  before  the  practice  had  passed  into  a  system. 
He  seemed  as  if  made  of  a  block  of  hard  Roman  oak, 
gnarled  and  knotted,  but  sound  in  all  its  fibres.  His 
professional  merit  continued  to  recommend  him.  At 
the  age  of  forty  he  became  pr^tor,  and  was  sent  to 
Spain,  where  he  left  a  mark  again  by  the  successful 
severity  by  which  he  cleared  the  province  of  ban- 
ditti. He  was  a  man  neither  given  himself  to  talk- 
ing, nor  much  talked  about  in  the  world ;  but  he  was 
nought  for  wherever  work  was  to  be  done,  and  he 
had  made  himself  respected  and  valued  in  high  cir- 
cles, for  after  his  return  from  the  Peninsula  he  had 
married  into  one  of  the  most  distinguished  of  the  pa- 
trician families. 

The  Csesars  were  a  branch  of  the  Gens  Julia,  which 
claimed  descent  from  lulus  the  son  of  iEneas,  and 
thus  from  the  gods.  Roman  etymologists  could  arrive 
at  no  conclusion  as  to  the  origin  of  the  name.  Some 
derived  it  from  an  exploit  on  an  elephant  hunt  in 
Africa  —  Csesar  meaning  elephant  in  Moorish  ;  some 
to  the  entrance  into  the  world  of  the  first  eminent 
Caesar  by  the  aid  of  a  surgeon's  knife ;  ^  some  from 

1  "Csesus  ab  utero  matris."- 


Marius.  43 

the  color  of  the  eyes  prevailing  in  the  family.  Be 
the  explanation  what  it  might,  eight  generations  of 
Caesars  had  held  prominent  positions  in  the  Com- 
monwealth. They  had  been  consuls,  censors,  prae- 
tors, aediles,  and  military  tribunes,  and  in  politics,  as 
might  be  expected  from  their  position,  they  had  been 
moderate  aristocrats.  Like  other  families,  they  had 
been  subdivided,  and  the  links  connecting  them  can- 
not always  be  traced.  The  pedigree  of  the  Dictator 
goes  no  further  than  to  his  grandfather,  Caius  Julius. 
In  the  middle  of  the  second  century  before  Christ, 
this  Caius  Julius,  being  otherwise  unknown  to  his- 
tory, married  a  lady  named  Marcia,  supposed  to  be  de- 
scended from  Ancus  Marcius,  the  fourth  king  of  Rome. 
By  her  he  had  three  children,  Caius  Julius,  Sextus 
Julius,  and  a  daughter  named  Julia.  Caius  Julius 
married  Aurelia,  perhaps  a  member  of  the  consular 
family  of  the  Cottas,  and  was  the  father  of  the  Great 
Caesar.  Julia  became  the  wife  of  Caius  Marius,  a 
mSsalUance,  which  implied  the  beginning  of  a  polit- 
ical split  in  the  Caesar  family.  The  elder  branches, 
like  the  Cromwells  of  Hinchinbrook,  remained  by 
their  order.  The  younger  attached  itself  for  good  or 
ill  to  the  party  of  the  people. 

Marius  by  this  marriage  became  a  person  of  so- 
cial consideration.  His  father  had  been  a  client  of 
the  Metelli;  and  Caecilius  Metellus,  who  must  have 
known  Marius  by  reputation  and  probably  in  person, 
invited  him  to  go  as  second  in  command  in  the  Afri- 
can campaign.  He  was  moderately  successful.  Towns 
were  taken ;  battles  were  won  :  Metellus  was  incor- 
ruptible, and  the  Numidians  sued  for  peace.  But 
Jugurtha  wanted  terms,  and  the  consul  demanded  un- 
tonditional  surrender.     Jugurtha  withdrew  into  the 


44  CoBsar, 

desert ;  the  war  dragged  on  ;  and  Marius,  perhaps  am- 
bitious, perhaps  impatient  at  the  general's  want  of 
vigor,  began  to  think  that  he  could  make  quicker 
work  of  it.  The  popular  party  were  stirring  again  in 
Rome,  the  Senate  having  so  notoriously  disgraced  it- 
self. There  was  just  irritation  that  a  petty  African 
prince  could  defy  the  whole  power  of  Rome  for  so 
many  years  ;  and  though  a  democratic  consul  had 
been  unheard  of  for  a  century,  the  name  of  Marius 
began  to  be  spoken  of  as  a  possible  candidate.  Ma- 
rius consented  to  stand.  The  law  required  that  he 
must  be  present  in  person  at  the  election,  and  he  ap- 
plied to  his  commander  for  leave  of  absence.  Me- 
tellus  laughed  at  his  pretensions,  and  bade  him  wait 
another  twenty  years.  Marius,  however,  persisted, 
and  was  allowed  to  go.  The  patricians  strained  their 
resources  to  defeat  him,  but  he  was  chosen  with  en- 
thusiasm. Metellus  was  recalled,  and  the  conduct  of 
the  Numidian  war  was  assigned  to  the  new  hero  of 
the  "  Populares." 

A  shudder  of  alarm  ran,  no  doubt,  through  the  sen- 
ate house,  when  the  determination  of  the  people  was 
known.  A  successful  general  could  not  be  disposed 
of  so  easily  as  oratorical  tribunes.  Fortunately,  Ma- 
rius was  not  a  politician.  He  had  no  belief  in  de- 
mocracy. He  was  a  soldier,  and  had  a  soldier's  way 
of  thinking  on  government  and  the  methods  of  it. 
His  first  step  was  a  reformation  in  the  army.  Hith- 
erto the  Roman  legions  had  been  no  more  than  the 
citizens  in  arms,  called  for  the  moment  from  their  va- 
rious occupations,  to  return  to  them  when  the  occa- 
sion for  their  services  was  past.  Marius  had  per- 
ceived that  fewer  men,  better  trained  and  disciplined, 
could  be  made  more  effective  and  be  more  easily  han- 


Marius.  45 

died.  He  had  studied  war  as  a  science.  He  had 
perceived  that  the  present  weakness  need  be  no  more 
than  an  accident,  and  that  there  was  a  latent  force  in 
the  Roman  State  which  needed  only  organization  to 
resume  its  ascendency.  "  He  enlisted,"  it  was  said, 
"  the  worst  of  the  citizens,"  men,  that  is  to  say,  who 
had  no  occupation,  and  who  became  soldiers  by  pro- 
fession ;  and  as  persons  without  property  could  not 
have  furnished  themselves  at  their  own  cost,  he  must 
have  carried  out  the  scheme  proposed  by  Gracchus, 
and  equipped  them  at  the  expense  of  the  State.  His 
discipline  was  of  the  sternest.  The  experiment  was 
new  ;  and  men  of  rank  who  had  a  taste  for  war  in  ear- 
nest, and  did  not  wish  that  the  popular  party  should 
have  the  whole  benefit  and  credit  of  the  improve- 
ments, were  willing  to  go  with  him ;  among  them  a 
dissipated  young  patrician,  called  Lucius  Sylla,  whose 
name  also  was  destined  to  be  memorable. 

By  these  methods  and  out  of  these  materials  an 
army  was  formed,  such  as  no  Roman  general  had 
hitherto  led.  It  performed  extraordinary  marches, 
carried  its  water  supplies  with  it  in  skins,  and  fol- 
lowed the  enemy  across  sandy  deserts  hitherto  found 
impassable.  In  less  than  two  years  the  war  was 
over.  The  Moors,  to  whom  Jugurtha  had  fled,  sur- 
rendered him  to  Sylla ;  and  he  was  brought  in  chains 
to  Rome,  where  he  finished  his  life  in  a  dungeon. 

So  ended  a  curious  episode  in  Roman  history, 
where  it  holds  a  place  beyond  its  intrinsic  impor- 
tance, from  the  light  which  .it  throws  on  the  charac- 
ter of  the  Senate  and  on  the  practical  working  of  the 
institutions  which  the  Gracchi  had  perished  in  un- 
euccesfc fully  attempting  to  reform. 


CHAPTER  V. 

The  Jngiirtliine  war  ended  in  the  year  106  B.  0. 
At  tlie  same  Arpinum,  which  had  produced  Mariua, 
another  actor  in  the  approaching  drama  was  in  that 
year  ushered  into  the  world,  Marcus  Tullius  Cicero. 
The  Ciceros  had  made  their  names,  and  perhaps  their 
fortunes,  by  their  skill  in  raising  deer  or  vetches. 
The  present  representative  of  the  family  was  a  coun- 
try gentleman  in  good  circumstances  given  to  liter- 
ature, residing  habitually  at  his  estate  on  the  Liris 
and  paying  occasional  visits  to  Rome.  In  that  house- 
hold was  born  Rome's  most  eloquent  master  of  the 
art  of  using  words,  who  was  to  carry  that  art  as  far, 
and  to  do  as  much  with  it,  as  any  man  who  has  ever 
appeared  on  the  world's  stage. 

Rome,  however,  was  for  the  present  in  the  face  of 
enemies  who  had  to  be  encountered  with  more  mate- 
rial weapons.  Mar i us  had  formed  an  army  barely  in 
time  to  save  Italy  from  being  totally  overwhelmed. 
A  vast  migratory  wave  of  population  had  been  set 
in  motion  behind  the  Rhine  and  the  Danube.  The 
German  forests  were  uncultivated.  The  hunting 
and  pasture  grounds  were  too  strait  for  the  numbers 
crowded  into  them,  and  two  enormous  hordes  were 
rolling  westward  and  southward  in  search  of  some 
new  abiding  place.  The  Teutons  came  from  the 
Baltic  do^m  across  the  Rhine  into  Luxemburg.  The 
Cimbri  crossed  the  Danube  near  its  sources  into 
lllyria.     Both    Teutons  and  Cimbri  were  Germans, 


The  Cimhri  and  Teutons,  47 

and  both  were  making  for  Gaul  by  different  routes. 
The  Celts  of  Gaul  had.  had  their  daj^".  In  past  gen- 
erations they  had  held  the  German  invaders  at  bay, 
and  had  even  followed  them  into  their  own  territo- 
ries. But  they  had  split  among  themselves.  They  no 
longer  offered  a  common  front  to  the  enemy.  They 
were  ceasing  to  be  able  to  maintain  their  own  inde- 
pendence, and  the  question  of  the  future  was  whether 
Gaul  was  to  be  the  prey  of  Germany  or  to  be  a  prov- 
ince of  Rome. 

Events  appeared  already  to  have  decided.  The  in- 
vasion of  the  Teutons  and  the  Cimbri  was  like  the 
pouring  in  of  two  great  rivers.  Each  division  con- 
sisted of  hundreds  of  thousands.  They  travelled, 
with  their  wives  and  children,  their  wagons,  as  with 
the  ancient  Scythians  and  with  the  modern  South 
African  Dutch,  being  at  once  their  conveyance  and 
their  home.  Gray-haired  priestesses  tramped  along 
among  them,  barefooted,  in  white  linen  dresses,  the 
knife  at  their  girdle ;  northern  Iphigenias,  sacrificing 
prisoners  as  they  were  taken  to  the  gods  of  Valhalla. 
On  they  swept,  eating  up  the  country,  and  the  peo- 
ple flying  before  them.  In  113  B.  c.  the  skirts  of 
the  Cimbri  had  encountered  a  small  Roman  force 
near  Trieste,  and  destroyed  it.  Four  years  later  an- 
other attempt  was  made  to  stop  them,  but  the  Ro- 
man army  was  beaten  and  its  camp  taken.  The 
Cimbrian  host  did  not,  however,  turn  at  that  time 
upon  Italy.  Their  aim  was  the  south  of  France. 
They  made  their  way  through  the  Alps  into  Switzer- 
land, where  the  Helvetii  joined  them,  and  the  united 
mass  rolled  over  the  Jura  and  down  the  bank  of  the 
Rhone.  Roused  at  last  into  the  exertion,  the  Senate 
Bent  into  Gaul  the  largest  force  which  the  Romans 


48  Ocesar, 

had  ever  brought  into  the  field.  They  met  the  Cim- 
bri  at  Orange,  and  were  simply  annihilated.  Eighty 
thousand  Romans  and  forty  thousand  camp  follow- 
ers were  said  to  have  fallen.  The  numbers  in  such 
cases  are  generally  exaggerated,  but  the  extrava- 
gance of  the  report  is  a  witness  to  the  greatness  of 
the  overthrow.  The  Romans  had  received  a  worsQ 
blow  than  at  Cannae.  They  were  brave  enough,  but 
they  were  commanded  by  persons  whose  recommen- 
dations for  command  were  birth  or  fortune ;  "  pre- 
posterous men,"  as  Marius  termed  them,  who  had 
waited  for  their  appointment  to  open  the  military 
manuals. 

Had  the  Cimbri  chosen  at  this  moment  to  recross 
the  Alps  into  Italy,  they  had  only  to  go  and  take 
possession,  and  Alaric  would  have  been  antedated  by 
five  centuries.  In  great  danger  it  was  the  Senate's 
business  to  suspend  the  constitution.  The  constitu- 
tion was  set  aside  now,  but  it  was  set  aside  by  the 
people  themselves,  not  by  the  Senate.  One  man  only 
could  save  the  country,  and  that  man  was  Marius. 
His  consulship  was  over,  and  custom  forbade  his  re- 
election. The  Senate  might  have  appointed  him 
Dictator,  but  would  not.  The  people,  custom  or  no 
custom,  chose  him  consul  a  second  time  —  a  significant 
acknowledgment  that  the  Empire,  which  had  been 
won  by  the  sword,  must  be  held  by  the  sword,  and 
that  the  sword  itself  must  be  held  by  the  hand  that 
was  best  fitted  to  use  it.  Marius  first  triumphed 
for  his  African  victory,  and,  as  an  intimation  to  the 
Senate  that  the  power  for  the  moment  was  his  and 
K9t  theirs,  he  entered  the  Curia  in  his  triumphal 
dress.  He  then  prepared  for  the  barbarians  who,  to 
the   alarmed  imagination  of  the  city,  were   already 


Change  in  the  Position  of  the  Army,         49 

knocking  at  its  gates.  Time  was  the. important  el- 
ement in  the  matter.  Had  the  Cimbri  come  at  once 
after  their  victory  at  Orange,  Italy  had  been  theirs. 
But  they  did  not  come.  With  the  unguided  move- 
ments of  some  wild  force  of  nature  they  swerved  away 
through  Aquitaine  to  the  Pyrenees.  They  swept 
across  the  mountains  into  Spain.  Thence,  "turning 
north,  they  passed  up  the  Atlantic  coast  and  round 
to  the  Seine,  the  Gauls  flying  before  them ;  thence 
on  to  the  Rhine,  where  the  vast  body  of  the  Teu- 
tons joined  them  and  fresh  detachments  of  the  Hel- 
vetia It  was  as  if  some  vast  tide  wave  had  surged 
over  the  country  and  rolled  through  it,  searching  out 
the  easiest  passages.  At  length,  in  two  divisions, 
the  invaders  moved  definitely  towards  Italy,  the  Cim- 
bri following  their  old  tracks  by  the  Eastern  Alps  to- 
wards Aquileia  and  the  Adriatic,  the  Teutons  pass- 
ing down  through  Provence,  and  making  for  the 
road  along  the  Mediterranean.  Two  years  had  been 
consumed  in  these  wanderings,  and  Marius  was  by 
this  time  ready  for  them.  The  Senate  had  dropped 
the  reins,  and  no  longer  governed  or  misgoverned; 
the  popular  party,  represented  by  the  army,  was  su- 
preme. Marius  was  continued  in  ofiice,  and  was  a 
fourth  time  consul.  He  had  completed  his  military 
reforms,  and  the  army  was  now  a  professional  serv- 
ice, with  regular  pay.  Trained  corps  of  engineers 
were  attached  to  each  legion.  The  campaigns  of  the 
Romans  were  thenceforward  to  be  conducted  with 
spade  and  pickaxe  as  much  as  with  sword  and  jave- 
lin, and  the  soldiers  learnt  the  use  of  tools  as  well 
as  arms.  Moral  discipline  was  not  forgotten.  The 
foulest  of  human  vices  was  growing  fashionable  in 
high  society  in  the  capital.     It  was  not  allowed  to 


60  Coesar. 

make  its  way  into  the  army.  An  officer  in  one  of 
the  legions,  a  near  relative  of  Marius,  made  filthy 
overtures  to  one  of  his  men.  The  man  replied  with 
a  thTust  of  his  sword,  and  Marius  publicly  thanked 
and  decorated  him. 

The  effect  of  the  change  was  like  enchantmenfcc 
The  delay  of  the  Germans  made  it  unnecessary  to 
wait  for  them  in  Italy.  Leaving  Catulus,  his  col- 
league in  the  consulship,  to  check  the  Cimbri  in 
Venetia,  Marius  went  himself,  taking  Sylla  with  him, 
into  the  south  of  France.  As  the  barbarian  host 
came  on,  he  occupied  a  fortified  camp  near  Aix.  He 
allowed  the  enormous  procession  to  roll  past  him  in 
their  wagons  towards  the  Alps.  Then,  following  cau- 
tiously, he  watched  his  opportunity  to  fall  on  them. 
The  Teutons  were  brave,  but  they  had  no  longer 
mere  legionaries  to  fight  with,  but  a  powerful  ma- 
chine, and  the  entire  mass  of  them,  men,  women,  and 
children,  in  numbers  which,  however  uncertain,  were 
rather  those  of  a  nation  than  an  army,  were  swept 
out  of  existence. 

The  Teutons  were  destroyed  on  the  20th  of  July, 
102.  In  the  year  following  the  same  fate  overtook 
their  comrades.  The  Cimbri  had  forced  the  passes 
through  the  mountains.  They  had  beaten  the  un- 
scientific patrician  Catulus,  and  had  driven  him  back 
on  the  Po.  But  Marius  came  to  his  rescue.  The 
Cimbri  were  cut  to  pieces  near  Mantua,  in  the  sum- 
mer of  101,  and  Italy  was  saved. 

The  victories  of  Marius  mark  a  new  epoch  in  Ro- 
man history.  The  legions  were  no  longer  the  levy  of 
the  citizens  in  arms,  who  were  themselves  the  State 
for  which  they  fought.  The  legionaries  were  citizens 
BtilL     They  had  votes,  and  they  used  them ;  but  they 


Change  in  the  Position  of  the  Army,  51 

were  professional  soldiers  with  the  modes  of  thought 
which  belong  to  soldiers ;  and  beside,  the  power  of  the 
hustings  was  now  the  power  of  the  sword.  The  con- 
stitution remained  to  appearance  intact,  and  means 
were  devised  sufiScient  to  encounter,  it  might  be  sup- 
posed, the  new  danger.  Standing  armies  were  pro- 
hibited in  Italy.  Victorious  generals  returning  from 
campaigns  abroad  were  required  to  disband  their  le- 
gions on  entering  the  sacred  soil.  But  the  materials 
of  these  legions  remained  a  distinct  order  from  the 
rest  of  the  population,  capable  of  instant  combina- 
tion, and  in  combination  irresistible,  save  by  opposing 
combinations  of  the  same  kind.  The  Senate  might 
continue  to  debate,  the  Comitia  might  elect  the  an- 
nual magistrates.  The  established  institutions  pre- 
served the  form  and  something  of  the  reality  of  power 
in  a  people  governed  so  much  by  habit  as  the  Ro- 
mans. There  is  a  long  twilight  between  the  time 
when  a  god  is  first  suspected  to  be  an  idol  and  his 
final  overthrow.  But  the  aristocracy  had  made  the 
first  inroad  on  the  constitution  by  interfering  at  the 
elections  w^ith  their  armed  followers  and  killing  their 
antagonists.  The  example  once  set  could  not  fail  to 
be  repeated,  and  the  rule  of  an  organized  force  was 
becoming  the  only  possible  protection  against  the 
rule  of  mobs,  patrician  or  plebeian. 

The  danger  from  the  Germans  was  no  sooner  gone 
than  political  anarchy  broke  loose  again.  Marius,  the 
man  of  the  people,  was  the  saviour  of  his  country. 
He  was  made  consul  a  fifth  time,  and  a  sixth.  The 
party  which  had  given  him  his  command  shared,  of 
course,  in  his  preeminence.  The  elections  could  be 
no  longer  interfered  with  or  the  voters  intimidated. 
The  public  offices  were  filled  with  the  most  violent 


62  Ocesar. 

agitators,  who  believed  that  the  time  had  come  to 
revenge  the  Gracchi,  and  carry  out  the  democratic 
revolution,  to  establish  the  ideal  Republic,  and  the 
direct  rule  of  the  citizen  assembly.  This,  too,  was 
a  chimera.  If  the  "Roman  Senate  could  not  govern, 
far  less  could  the  Roman  mob  govern.  Marius  stood 
aside,  and  let  the  voices  rage.  He  could  not  be  ex- 
pected to  support  a  system  which  had  brought  the 
country  so  near  to  ruin.  He  had  no  belief  in  the 
visions  of  the  demagogues,  but  the  time  was  not  ripe 
to  make  an  end  of  it  all.  Had 'he  tried,  the  army 
would  not  have  gone  with  him,  so  he  sat  still  till  fac- 
tion had  done  its  work.  The  popular  heroes  of  the 
hour  were  the  tribune  Saturninus  and  the  praetor 
Glaucia.  They  carried  corn  laws  and  land  laws  — 
whatever  laws  they  pleased  to  propose.  The  admin- 
istration remaining  with  the  Senate,  they  carried  a 
vote  that  every  senator  should  take  an  oath  to  exe- 
cute their  laws  under  penalty  of  fine  and  expulsion. 
Marius  did  not  like  it,  and  even  opposed  it,  but  let 
it  pass  at  last.  The  senators,  cowed  and  humiliated, 
consented  to  take  the  oath,  all  but  one,  Marius's  old 
friend  and  commander  in  Africa,  Csecilius  Metellus. 
No  stain  had  ever  rested  on  the  name  of  Metellus. 
He  had  accepted  no  bribes.  He  had  half  beaten  Ju- 
gurtha,  for  Marius  to  finish;  and  Marius  himself  stood 
in  a  semi-feudal  relation  to  him.  It  was  unlucky  for 
the  democrats  that  they  had  found  so  honorable  an 
opponent.  Metellus  persisted  in  refusal.  Saturninus 
sent  a  guard  to  the  senate  house,  dragged  him  out, 
and  expelled  him  from  the  city.  Aristocrats  and  their 
partisans  were  hustled  and  killed  in  the  street.  The 
patricians  had  spilt  the  first  blood  in  the  massacre  in 
121 :  now  it  was  the  turn  of  the  mob. 


Murder  of  Memmius.  55 

Marius  was  an  indifferent  politician.  He  perceived 
as  well  as  any  one  that  violence  must  not  go  on,  but 
he  hesitated  to  put  it  down.  He  knew  that  the  aris- 
tocracy feared  and  hated  him.  Between  them  and 
the  people's  consul  no  alliance  was  possible.  He  did 
not  care  to  alienate  his  friends,  and  there  may  have 
been  other  difficulties  which  we  do  not  know  in  his 
way.  The  army  itself  was  perhaps  divided.  On  the 
popular  side  there  were  two  parties  :  a  moderate  one, 
represented  by  Memmius,  who,  as  tribune,  had  im- 
peached the  senators  for  the  Jugurthine  infamies; 
the  other,  the  advanced  radicals,  led  by  Glaucia  and 
Saturninus.  Memmius  and  Glaucia  were  both  can- 
didates for  the  consulship ;  and  as  Memmius  was 
likely  to  succeed,  he  was  murdered. 

Revolutions  proceed  like  the  acts  of  a  drama,  and 
each  act  is  divided  into  scenes  which  follow  one  an- 
other with  singular  uniformity*  Ruling  powers  make 
themselves  hated  by  tyranny  and  incapacity.  An 
opposition  is  formed  against  them,  composed  of  all 
sorts,  lovers  of  order  and  lovers  of  disorder,  reason- 
able men  and  fanatics,  business-like  men  and  men 
of  theory.  The  opposition  succeeds ;  the  Govern- 
ment is  overthrown  ;  the  victors  divide  into  a  moder- 
erate  party  and  an  advanced  party.  The  advanced 
party  go  to  the  front,  till  they  discredit  themselves 
with  crime  or  folly.  The  wheel  has  then  gone  round, 
and  the  reaction  sets  in.  The  murder  of  Memmius 
alienated  fatally  the  respectable  citizens.  Saturninus 
and  Glaucia  were  declared  public  enemies.  They 
seized  the  Capitol,  and  blockaded  it.  Patrician 
Rome  turned  out  and  besieged  them,  and  Marius  had 
to  interfere.  The  demacrogues  and  their  friends  sur- 
rendered,  and  were  confined  in  the  Curia  Hostilia  till 


64  Coesar. 

they  could  be  tried.  The  noble  lords  could  not  allow 
such  detested  enemies  the  chance  of  an  acquittal. 
To  them  a  radical  was  a  foe  of  mankind,  to  be 
hunted  down  like  a  wolf,  when  a  chance  was  offered 
to  destroy  him.  By  the  law  of  Caius  Gracchus  no 
citizen  could  be  put  to  death  without  a  trial.  The 
persons  of  Saturninus  and  Glaucia  were  doubly  sa- 
cred, for  one  was  tribune  and  the  other  praBtor.  But 
the  patricians  were  satisfied  that  they  deserved  to  be 
executed,  and  in  such  a  frame  of  mind  it  seemed  but 
virtue  to  execute  them.  They  tore  off  the  roof  of 
the  senate  house,  and  pelted  the  miserable  wretches 
to  death  with  stones  and  tiles. 


CHAPTER  VI. 

Not  far  from  the  scene  of  the  murder  of  Glaucia 
and  Saturninus  there  was  lying  at  this  time  in  his 
cradle,  or  carried  about  in  his  nurse's  arms,  a  child 
who,  in  his  manhood,  was  to  hold  an  inquiry  into  this 
business,  and  to  bring  one  of  the  perpetrators  to  an- 
swer for  himself.  On  the  12th  of  the  preceding 
July,  B.  c.  100,^  was  born  into  the  world  Caius  Ju- 
lius Caesar,  the  only  son  of  Caius  Julius  and  Aurelia, 
and  nephew  of  the  then  Consul  Marius.  His  father 
had  been  praetor,  but  had  held  no  higher  office.  Au- 
relia was  a  strict  stately  lady  of  the  old  school,  unin- 
fected by  the  lately  imported  fashions.  She,  or  her 
husband,  or  both  of  them,  were  rich;  but  the  habits 
of  the  household  were  simple  and  severe,  and  the 
connection  with  Marius  indicates  the  political  opin- 
ions which  prevailed  in  the  family. 

No  anecdotes  are  preserved  of  Caesar's  childhood. 
He  was  taught  Greek  by  Antonius  Gnipho,  an  edu- 
cated Gaul  from  the  north  of  Italy.  He  wrote  a 
poem  when  a  boy  in  honor  of  Hercules.  He  com- 
posed a  tragedy  on  the  story  of  CEdipus.  His  pas- 
sionate attachment  to  Aurelia  in  after  years  shows 
that  between  mother  and  child  the  relations  had  been 
affectionate  and  happy.     But  there  is  nothing  to  in- 

1  I  follow  the  ordinary  date,  which  has  been  fixed  by  the  positive 
statement  that  Caesar  was  ;fifty-six  when  he  was  killed,  the  date  of  his 
death  being  March  b,  c.  44.  Mommsen,  however,  argues  plausibly  for 
adding  another  two  j'ears  to  the  beginning  of  Caesar's  life,  and  brings  him 
into  the  world  at  the  time  of  the  battle  at  Aix. 


56  CoBsar. 

dicate  that  there  was  any  early  precocity  of  talent 
and  leaving  Caesar  to  his  grammar  and  his  exercises, 
we  will  proceed  with  the  occurrences  which  he  must 
have  heard  talked  of  in  his  father's  house,  or  seen  with 
his  eyes  when  he  began  to  open  them.  The  society 
there  was  probably  composed  of  his  uncle's  friends  ; 
soldiers  and  statesmen  who  had  no  sympathy  with 
mobs,  but  detested  the  selfish  and  dangerous  system 
on  which  the  Senate  had  carried  on  the  government, 
and  dreaded  its  consequences.  Above  the  tumults  of 
the  factions  in  the  Capitol  a  cry  rising  into  shrillness 
began  to  be  heard  from  Italy.  Caius  Gracchus  had 
wished  to  extend  the  Roman  franchise  to  the  Italian 
States,  and  the  suggestion  had  cost  him  his  popular- 
ity and  his  life.  The  Italian  provinces  had  furnished 
their  share  of  the  armies  which  had  beaten  Jugurtha, 
and  had  destroyed  the  German  invaders.  They  now 
demanded  that  they  should  have  the  position  which 
Gracchus  designed  for  them :  that  they  should  be 
allowed  to  legislate  for  themselves,  and  no  longer  lie 
at  the  mercy  of  others,  who  neither  understood  their 
necessities  nor  cared  for  their  interests.  They  had 
no  friends  in  the  city,  save  a  few  far-sighted  states- 
men. Senate  and  mob  had  at  least  one  point  of 
agreement,  that  the  spoils  of  the  Empire  should  be 
fought  for  among  themselves ;  and  at  the  first  men- 
tion of  the  invasion  of  their  monopoly  a  law  was 
passed  making  the  very  agitation  of  the  subject  pun- 
ishable by  death. 

Political  convulsions  work  in  a  groove,  the  direc- 
tion of  which  varies  little  in  any  age  or  country. 
Institutions  once  sufficient  and  salutary  become  un- 
adapted  to  a  change  of  circumstances.  The  tradi- 
tionary holders  of   power  see  their  interests  threat- 


The  Italian  Franchise,  57 

ened.  They  are  jealous  of  innovations.  They  look 
on  agitators  for  reform  as  felonious  persons  desiring 
to  appropriate  what  does  not  belong  to  them.  The 
complaining  parties  are  conscious  of  suffering,  and 
rush  blindly  on  the  superficial  causes  of  their  immedi- 
ate distress.  The  existing  authority  is  their  enemy ; 
and  their  one  remedy  is  a  change  in  the  system  of 
government.  They  imagine  that  they  see  what  the 
change  should  be,  that  they  comprehend  what  they 
are  doing,  and  know  where  they  intend  to  arrive. 
They  do  not  perceive  that  the  visible  disorders  are  no 
more  than  symptoms  which  no  measures,  repressive 
or  revolutionary,  can  do  more  than  palliate.  The 
wave  advances  and  the  wave  recedes.  Neither  party 
in  the  struggle  can  lift  itself  far  enough  above  the 
passions  of  the  moment  to  study  the  drift  of  the  gen- 
eral current.  Each  is  violent,  each  is  one-sided,  and 
each  makes  the  most  and  the  worst  of  the  sins  of  its 
opponents.  The  one  idea  of  the  aggressors  is  to 
grasp  all  that  they  can  reach.  The  one  idea  of  the 
conservatives  is  to  part  with  nothing,  pretending  that 
the  stability  of  the  State  depends  on  adherence  to 
the  principles  which  have  placed  them  in  the  position 
which  they  hold ;  and  as  various  interests  are  threat- 
ened, and  as  various  necessities  arise,  those  who  are 
one  day  enemies  are  frightened  the  next  into  unnatu- 
ral coalitions,  and  the  next  after  into  more  embittered 
dissensions. 

To  an  indifferent  spectator,  armed  especially  with 
the  political  experiences  of  twenty  additional  centu- 
ries, it  seems  difficult  to  understand  how  Italy  could 
govern  the  world.  That  the  world  and  Italy  besides 
•should  continue  subject  to  the  population  of  a  single 
city,  of  its  limited  Latin  environs,  and  of  a  handful 


58  Coesar. 

of  townships  exceptionally  favored,  might  even  then 
be  seen  to  be  plainly  impossible.  The  Italians  were 
Romans  in  every  point,  except  in  the  possession  of  the 
franchise.  They  spoke  the  same  language  ;  they  were 
subjects  of  the  same  dominion.  They  were  as  well 
educated,  they  were  as  wealthy,  they  were  as  capable, 
as  the  inhabitants  of  the  dominant  State.  They  paid 
taxes,  they  fought  in  the  armies  ;  they  were  strong ; 
they  were  less  corrupt,  politically  and  morally,  as 
having  fewer  temptations  and  fewer  opportunities  of 
evil ;  and  in  their  simple  country  life  they  approached 
incomparably  nearer  to  the  old  Roman  type  than  the 
patrician  fops  in  the  circus  or  the  Forum,  or  the  city 
mob  which  was  fed  in  idleness  on  free  grants  of  corn. 
When  Samnium  and  Tuscany  were  conquered,  a  third 
of  the  lands  had  been  confiscated  to  the  Roman  State, 
under  the  name  of  Ager  Publicus.  Samnite  and 
Etruscan  gentlemen  had  recovered  part  of  it  under 
lease,  much  as  the  descendants  of  the  Irish  chiefs  held 
their  ancestral  domains  as  tenants  of  the  Cromwellians. 
The  land  law  of,  the  Gracchi  was  well  intended,  but  it 
bore  hard  on  many  of  the  leading  provincials,  who 
had  seen  their  estates  parcelled  out,  and  their  own 
property,  as  they  deemed  it,  taken  from  them  under 
the  land  commission.  If  they  were  to  be  governed 
by  Roman  laws,  they  naturally  demanded  to  be  con- 
sulted when  the  laws  were  made.  They  might  have 
been  content  under  a  despotism,  to  which  Roman  and 
Italian  were  subject  alike.  To  be  governed  under  the 
forms  of  a  free  constitution  by  men  no  better  than 
themselves  was  naturally  intolerable. 

The  movement  from  without  united  the  Romans 
for  the  instant  in  defence  of  their  privileges.  The 
aristocracy  resisted  change  from  instinct;  the  mob, 


The  Italian  War,  59 

loudly  as  they  clamored  for  their  own  rights,  cared 
nothing  for  the  rights  of  others,  and  the  answer  to  the 
petition  of  the  Italians,  five  years  after  the 
defeat  of  the  Cimbri,  was  a  fierce  refusal  to  '  "  " 
permit  the  discussion  of  it.  Livius  Drusus,  one  of 
those  unfortunately  gifted  men  who  can  see  that  in 
a  quarrel  there  is  sometimes  justice  on  both  sides, 
made  a  vain  attempt  to  secure  the  provincials  a  hear- 
insf,  but  he  was  murdered  in  his  own  house. 

B.  C.  91. 

To  be  murdered  was  the  usual  end  of  ex- 
ceptionally distinguished  Romans,  in  a  State  where 
the  lives  of  citizens  were  theoretically  sacred.  His 
death  was  the  signal  for  an  insurrection,  which  began 
in  the  mountains  of  the  Abruzzi  and  spread  over  the 
whole  peninsula. 

The  contrast  of  character  between  the  two  classes 
of  population  became  at  once  uncomfortably  evident. 
The  provincials  had  been  the  right  arm  of  the  Em- 
pire. Rome,  a  city  of  rich,  men  with  families  of 
slaves,  and  of  a  crowd  of  impoverished  freemen  with- 
out employment  to  keep  them  in  health  and  strength, 
could  no  longer  bring  into  the  field  a  force  which 
could  hold  its  ground  against  the  gentry  and  peasants 
of  Samnium.  The  Senate  enlisted  Greeks,  Numid- 
ians,  any  one  whose  services  they  could  purchase. 
They  had  to  encounter  soldiers  who  had  been  trained 
■and  disciplined  by  Marius,  and  they  were  taught,  by 
defeat  upon  defeat,  that  they  had  a  worse  enemy  be- 
.*ore  them  than  the  Germans.  Marius  himself  had 
almost  withdrawn  from  public  life.  He  had  no  heart 
for  the  quarrel,  and  did  not  care  greatly  to  exert 
himself.  At  the  bottom,  perhaps,  he  thought  that 
the  Italians  were  in  the  right.  The  Senate  discovered 
chat  they  were  helpless,  and  must  come  to  terms  if 


60  Ccesar, 

tLey  would  escape  destruction.  They  abandoned  the 
original  point  of  diJBference,  and  they  offered  to  open 
the  franchise  to  every  Italian  state  south  of  the  Po, 
which  had  not  taken  arms,  or  which  returned  im- 
mediately to  its  allegiance.  The  war  had  broken 
out  for  a  definite  cause.  When  the  cause  was  re- 
moved no  reason  remained  for  its  continuance.  The 
Italians  were  closely  connected  with  Rome.  Italians 
were  spread  over  the  Roman  world  in  active  business. 
They  had  no  wish  to  overthrow  the  Empire  if  they 
were  allowed  a  share  in  its  management.  The 
greater  part  of  them  accepted  the  Senate's  terms; 
and  only  those  remained  in  the  field  who  had  gone  to 
war  in  the  hope  of  recovering  the  lost  independence 
which  their  ancestors  had  so  long  heroically  defended. 

The  panting  Senate  was  thus  able  to  breathe  again. 
The  war  continued,  but  under  better  auspices.  Sound 
material  could  now  be  collected  again  for  the  army. 
Marius  being  in  the  background,  the  chosen  knight 
of  the  aristocracy,  Lucius  Sylla,  whose  fame  in  the 
Cimbrian  war  had  been  only  second  to  that  of  his 
commander's,  came  at  once  to  the  front. 

Sylla,  or  Sulla,  as  we  are  now  taught  to  call  him, 
was  born  in  the  year  138  B.  C.  He  was  a  patrician 
of  the  purest  blood,  had  inherited  a  moderate  fort- 
une, and  had  spent  it  like  other  young  men  of  rank, 
lounging  in  theatres,  and  amusing  himself  with  din- 
ner-parties. He  was  a  poet,  an  artist,  and  a  wit,  but 
each  and  everything  with  the  languor  of  an  amateur. 
His  favorite  associates  were  actresses,  and  he  had 
neither  obtained  nor  aspired  to  any  higher  reputation 
kban  that  of  a  cultivated  man  of  fashion.  His  dis- 
tinguished birth  was  not  apparent  in  his  person.  He 
had  red  hair,  hard  blue  eyes,  and  a  complexion  white 


Sylla.  61 

and  purple,  with  the  colors  so  ill-mixed  that  his  face 
was  compared  to  a  mulberry  sprinkled  with  flour. 
Ambition  he  appeared  to  have  none  ;  and  when  he 
exerted  himself  to  be  appointed  Qusestor  to  Marius 
on  the  African  expedition,  Marius  was  disinclined  to 
take  him  as  having  no  recommendation  beyond  qual- 
ifications which  the  consul  of  the  plebeians  disdained 
and  disliked. 

Marius,  however,  soon  discovered  his  mistake.  Be- 
neath his  constitutional  indolence,  Sylla  was  by  nature 
a  soldier,  a  statesman,  a  diplomatist.  He  had  been 
too  contemptuous  of  the  common  objects  of  politicians 
to  concern  himself  with  the  intrigues  of  the  Forum, 
but  he  had  only  to  exert  himself  to  rise  with  easy 
ascendency  to  the  command  of  every  situation  in 
which  he  might  be  placed.  He  had  entered  with 
military  instinct  into  Marius's  reform  of  the  army, 
and  became  the  most  active  and  useful  of  his  officers. 
He  endeared  himself  to  the  legionaries  by  a  tolerance 
of  vices  which  did  not  interfere  with  discipline ;  and 
to  Sylla's  combined  adroitness  and  courage  Marius 
owed  the  final  capture  of  Jugurtha. 

Whether  Marius  became  jealous  of  Sylla  on  this 
occasion  must  be  decided  by  those  who,  while  they 
have  no  better  information  than  others  as  to  the  ac- 
tions of  men,  possess,  or  claim  to  possess,  the  most  in- 
timate acquaintance  with  their  motives.  They  again 
served  together,  however,  against  the  Northern  in- 
vaders, and  Sylla  a  second  time  lent  efficient  help  to 
give  Marius  victory.  Like  Marius,  he  had  no  turn 
for  platform  oratory,  and  little  interest  in  election 
contests  and  intrigues.  For  eight  years  he  kept 
aloof  from  politics,  and  his  name  and  that  of  his  rival 
were  alike  for  all  that  time  almost  unheard  of.     He 


62  Coesar. 

emerged  into  special  notice  only  when  he  was  praBtor 
in  the  year  93  B.  C,  and  when  he  characteristically 
distinguished  his  term  of  office  by  exhibiting  a  hun- 
dred lions  in  the  arena  matched  against  Numidian 
archers.  There  was  no  such  road  to  popularity  with 
the  Roman  multitude.  It  is  possible  that  the  little 
Caesar,  then  a  child  of  seven,  may  have  been  among 
the  spectators,  making  his  small  reflections  on  it  all. 

In  92  Sylla  went  as  pro-praetor  to  Asia,  where  the 
incapacity  of  the  Senate's  administration  was  creating 
another  enemy  likely  to  be  troublesome.  Mithridates, 
"  child  of  the  sun,"  pretending  to  a  descent  from  Da- 
rius Hystaspes,  was  king  of  Pontus,  one  of  the  semi- 
independent  monarchies  which  had  been  allowed  to 
stand  in  Asia  Minor.  The  coast  line  of  Pontus  ex- 
tended from  Sinope  to  Trebizond,  and  reached  in- 
land to  the  line  of  mountains  where  the  rivers  divide 
which  flow  into  the  Black  Sea  and  the  Mediterra- 
nean. The  father  of  Mithridates  was  murdered  when 
he  was  a  child,  and  for  some  years  he  led  a 
wandering  life,  meeting  adventures  which 
were  as  wild  and  perhaps  as  imaginary  as  those  of 
Ulysses.  In  later  life  he  became  the  idol  of  East- 
ern imagination,  and  legend  made  free  with  his  his- 
tory but  he  was  certainly  an  extraordinary  man.  He 
spoke  the  unnumbered  dialects  of  the  Asiatic  tribes 
among  whom  he  had  travelled.  He  spoke  Greek  with 
ease  and  freedom.  Placed,  as  he  was,  on  the  mar- 
gin where  the  civilizations  of  the  East  and  the  West 
were  brought  in  contact,  he  was  at  once  a  barbarian 
potentate  and  an  ambitious  European  politician.  He 
was  well  informed  of  the  state  of  Rome,  and  saw  rea- 
son, perhaps,  as  well  he  might,  to  doubt  the  durabil- 
ity of  its  power.    At  any  rate,  he  was  no  sooner  fixed 


Mithridates.  63 

on  his  own  throne  than  he  began  to  annex  the  terri- 
tories of  the  adjoining  princes.  He  advanced  his  sea 
frontier  through  Armenia  to  Batouni,  and  thence 
along  the  coast  of  Circassia.  He  occupied  the  Greek 
settlements  on  the  Sea  of  Azof.  He  took  Kertch  and 
the  Crimea,  and  with  the  help  of  pirates  from  the 
Mediterranean  he  formed  a  fleet  which  gave  him 
complete  command  of  the  Black  Sea.  In  Asia  Minor 
no  power  but  the  Roman  could  venture  to  quarrel 
with  him.  The  Romans  ought  in  prudence  to  have 
interfered  before  Mithridates  had  grown  to  so  large  a 
bulk,  but  money  judiciously  distributed  among  the 
leading  politicians  had  secured  the  Senate's  conniv- 
ance ;  and  they  opened  their  eyes  at  last  only  when 
Mithridates  thought  it  unnecessary  to  subsidize  them 
further,  and  directed  his  proceedings  against  Cappa- 
docia,  which  was  immediately  under  Roman  protec- 
tion. He  invaded  the  country,  killed  the  prince  whom 
Rome  had  recognized,  and  placed  on  the  throne  a  child 
of  his  own,  with  the  evident  intention  of  taking  Cap- 
padocia  for  himself. 

This  was  to  go  too  far.  Like  Jugurtha,  he  had 
purchased  many  friends  in  the  Senate,  who,  grateful 
for  past  favors  and  hoping  for  more,  prevented  the 
adoption  of  violent  measures  against  him ;  but  they 
Bent  a  message  to  him  that  he  must  not  have  Cappa- 
docia,  and  Mithridates,  waiting  for  a  better  opportu- 
nity, thought  proper  to  comply.  Of  this  message  the 
bearer  was  Lucius  Sylla.  He  had  time  to  study  on 
the  spot  the  problem  of  how  to  deal  with  Asia  Minor. 
He  accomplished  his  mission  with  his  usual  adroit- 
ness and  apparent  success,  and  he  returned  to  Rome 
with  new  honors  to  finish  the  Social  war. 

It  was  no  easy  work.     The  Samnites  were  tougb 


64  Ccesar, 

and  determined.  For  two  years  they  continued  to 
struggle,  and  the  contest  was  not  yet  over  when  news 
came  from  the  East  appalling  as  the  threatened  Cim- 
brian  invasion,  which  brought  both  parties  to  consent 
to  suspend  their  differences  by  mutual  concessions. 


CHAPTER  VII. 

BabbAEIAN  kings,  who  found  Roman  senators 
ready  to  take  bribes  from  them,  believed  not  unnat- 
urally that  the  days  of  Roman  dominion  were  num- 
bered. When  the  news  of  the  Social  war  reached 
Mithridates,  he  thought  it  needless  to  temporize 
longer,  and  he  stretched  out  his  hand  to  seize  the 
prize  of  the  dominion  of  the  East.  The  Armenians, 
who  were  at  his  disposition,  broke  into  Cappadocia 
and  again  overthrew  the  government,  which  was  in 
dependence  upon  Rome.  Mithridates  himself  invaded 
Bithynia,  and  replied  to  the  remonstrances  of  the 
Roman  authorities  by  a  declaration  of  open  war. 
He  called  under  arms  the  whole  force  of  which  he 
could  dispose;  frightened  rumor  spoke  of  it  as 
amounting  to  three  hundred  thousand  men.  His 
corsair  fleets  poured  down  through  the  Dardanelles 
into  the  Archipelago ;  and  so  detested  had  the  Ro- 
man governors  made  themselves  by  their  extortion 
and  injustice,  that  not  only  all  the  islands,  but  the 
provinces  on  the  continent,  Ionia,  Lydia,  and  Caria, 
rose  in  revolt.  The  rebellion  was  preconcerted  and 
simultaneous.  The  Roman  residents,  merchants, 
bankers,  farmers  of  the  taxes,  they  and  all  their  fam- 
ilies, were  set  upon  and  murdered;  a  hundred  and 
fifty  thousand  men,  women,  and  children  were  said 
to  have  been  destroyed  in  a  single  day  If  we  divide 
by  ten,  as  it  is  generally  safe  to  do  with  historical 
yound   numbers,  still  beyond   doubt  the  signal  had 

6 


66  Ccesar. 

been  given  in  an  appalling  massacre  to  abolish  out  of 
Asia  the  Roman  name  and  power.  Swift  as  a  thun- 
derbolt, Mithridates  himself  crossed  the  Bosphorus, 
and  the  next  news  that  reached  Rome  was  that 
northern  Greece  had  risen  also,  and  was  throwing 
itself  into  the  arms  of  its  deliverers. 

The  defeat  at  Cannse  had  been  received  with  digni- 
fied calm.  Patricians  and  plebeians  forgot  their  quar- 
rels, and  thought  only  how  to  meet  their  common  foe. 
The  massacre  in  Asia  and  the  invasion  of  Mithridates 
let  loose  a  tempest  of  political  frenzy.  Never  was 
indignation  more  deserved.  The  Senate  had  made 
no  preparation.  Such  resources  as  they  could  com- 
mand had  been  wasted  in  the  wars 'with  the  Italians. 
They  had  no  fleet,  they  had  no  armies  available ; 
nor,  while  the  civil  war  was  raging,  could  they  raise 
an  army.  The  garrisons  in  Greece  were  scattered  or 
shut  in  within  their  lines  and  unable  to  move.  The 
treasury  was  empty.  Individuals  were  enormously 
rich,  and  the  State  was  bankrupt.  Thousands  of 
families  had  lost  brothers,  cousins,  or  friends  in  the 
massacre,  and  the  manifest  cause  of  the  disaster  was 
the  inefficiency  and  worthlessness  of  the  ruling  classes. 
In  Africa,  in  Gaul,  in  Italy,  and  now  in  Asia,  it  had 
been  the  same  story.  The  interests  of  the  Common- 
wealth had  been  sacrificed  to  fill  the  purses  of  the  few 
Dominion,  wealth,  honors,  all  that  had  been  won  by 
the  hardy  virtues  of  earlier  generations,  seemed  about 
to  be  engulfed  forever. 

In  their  panic  the  Senate  turned  to  Sylla,  whom 
they  had  made  consul.  An  imperfect  peace  was 
patched  up  with  the  Italians.  Sylla  was  bidden  to 
Bave  the  Republic,  and  to  prepare  in  haste  for  Greece. 
Bvit  Sylla  was  a  bitter  aristocrat,  the  very  incarna- 


Marius  and  Sylla,  67 

tion  of  the  oligarchy,  who  were  responsible  for  every 
disaster  which  had  happened.  The  Senate  had  taken 
bribes  from  Jugurtha.  The  Senate  had  chosen  the 
commanders  whose  blunders  had  thrown  open  the 
Alps  to  the  Germans  ;  and  it  was  only  because  the 
people  had  snatched  the  power  out  of  their  hands  and 
had  trusted  it  to  one  of  themselves  that  Italy  had  not 
been  in  flames.  Again  the  oligarchy  had  recovered 
the  administration,  and  again  by  following  the  old 
courses  they  had  brought  on  this  new  catastrophe. 
They  might  have  checked  Mithridates  while  there 
was  time.  They  had  preferred  to  accept  his  money 
and  look  on.  The  people  naturally  thought  that  no 
successes  could  be  looked  for  under  such  guidance; 
and  that,  even  were  Sylla  to  be  victorious,  nothing 
was  to  be  expected  but  the  continuance  of  the  same 
accursed  system.  Marius  was  the  man.  Marius,  after 
his  sixth  consulship,  had  travelled  in  the  East,  and 
understood  it  as  well  as  Sylla.  Not  Sylla,  but  Marius 
must  now  go  against  Mithridates.  Too  late  the  dem- 
ocratic leaders  repented  of  their  folly  in  encourag- 
ing the  Senate  to  refuse  the  franchise  to  the  Italians. 
The  Italians,  they  began  to  perceive,  would  be  their 
surest  political  allies.  Caius  Gracchus  had  been  right 
after  all.  The  Roman  democracy  must  make  haste 
to  offer  the  Italians  more  than  all  which  the  Senate 
was  ready  to  concede  to  them.  Together  they  could 
make  an  end  of  misrule,  and  place  Marius  once  more 
at  their  head. 

Much  of  this  was  perhaps  the  scheming  passion  of 
revolution  ;  much  of  it  was  legitimate  indignation, 
penitent  for  its  errors,  and  anxious  to  atone  for  them. 
Marius  had  his  personal  grievances.  The  aristocrats 
were  stealing  from  him  even  his  military  reputation, 


68  Ccesar, 

and  claiming  for  Sylla  the  capture  of  Jugurtlia.  He 
■was  willing,  perhaps  anxious,  to  take  the  Eastern 
command.  Sulpicius  Rufus,  once  a  champion  of  the 
Senate  and  the  most  brilliant  orator  in  Rome,  went 
over  to  the  people  in  the  excitement.  Rufus  was 
chosen  tribune,  and  at  once  proposed  to  enfranchise 
the  remainder  of  Italy.  He  denounced  the  oligarchy. 
He  insisted  that  the  Senate  must  be  purged  of  its 
corrupt  members  and  better  men  be  introduced,  that 
the  people  must  depose  Sylla,  and  that  Marius  must 
take  his  place.  The  Empire  was  tottering,  and  the 
mob  and  its  leaders  were  choosing  an  ill  moment  for 
a  rcYolution.  The  tribune  carried  the  assembly  along 
with  him.  There  were  fights  again  in  the  Forum 
the  young  nobles  with  their  gangs  once  more  break- 
ing up  the  Comitia  and  driving  the  people  from  the- 
voting  places.  The  voting,  notwithstanding,  was  got 
through  as  Sulpicius  Rufus  recommended,  and  Sylla, 
so  far  as  the  assembly  could  do  it,  was  superseded. 
But  Sylla  was  not  so  easily  got  rid  of.  It  was  no  time 
for  nice  considerations.  He  had  formed  an  army  in 
Campania  out  of  the  legions  which  had  served  against 
the  Italians.  He  had  made  his  soldiers  devoted  to 
him.  They  were  ready  to  go  anywhere  and  do  any- 
tbing  which  Sylla  bade  them.  After  so  many  mur- 
ders and  so  many  commotions,  the  constitution  had 
lost  its  sacred  character ;  a  popular  assembly  was,  of 
all  conceivable  bodies,  the  least  fit  to  govern  an  Em- 
pire; and  in  Sylla's  eyes  the  Senate,  whatever  its 
deficiencies,  was  the  only  possible  sovereign  of  Rome. 
The  people  were  a  rabble,  and  their  voices  the  clamor 
of  fools,  who  must  be  taught  to  know  their  masters. 
His  reply  to  Sulpicius  and  to  the  vote  for  his  recall 
was  to  march  on  the  city.     He  led  his  troops  within 


Sylla,  69 

the  circle  which  no  legionary  in  arms  was  allowed  to 
enter,  and  he  lighted  his  watchfires  in  the  Forum 
itself.  The  people  resisted  ;  Sulpicius  was  killed ; 
Marius,  the  saviour  of  his  countr}^,  had  to  fly  for  his 
life,  pursued  by  assassins,  with  a  price  set  upon  his 
head.  Twelve  of  the  prominent  popular  leaders 
were  immediately  executed  without  trial ;  and  in 
hot  haste,  swift  decisive  measures  were  taken,  which 
permanently,  as  Sylla  hoped,  or  if  not  permanently 
at  least  for  the  moment,  would  lame  the  limbs  of  the 
democracy.  The  Senate,  being  below  its  numbers, 
was  hastily  filled  up  from  the  patrician  families.  The 
arrangements  of  the  Comitia  were  readjusted,  to  re- 
store to  wealth  a  decisive  preponderance  in  the  elec- 
tion of  the  magistrates.  The  tribunes  of  the  people 
were  stripped  of  half  their  power.  Their  vote  was 
left  to  them,  but  the  right  of  initiation  was  taken 
away ;  and  no  law  or  measure  of  any  kind  was  thence- 
forth to  be  submitted  to  the  popular  assembly  till  it 
had  been  considered  in  the  Curia,  and  had  received 
the  Senate's  sanction. 

Thus  the  snake  was  scotched,  and  it  might  be 
hoped  would  die  of  its  wounds.  Sulpicius  and  his 
brother  demagogues  were  dead.  Marius  was  exiled. 
Time  pressed,  and  Sylla  could  not  wait  to  see  his 
reforms  in  operation.  Signs  became  visible  before 
he  went  that  the  crisis  would  not  pass  off  so  easily. 
Fresh  consuls  had  to  be  elected.  The  changes  in  the 
method  of  voting  were  intended  to  secure  the  return 
of  the  Senate's  candidates,  and  one  of  the  consuls 
chosen,  Cnaeus  Octavius,  was  a  man  on  whom  Sylla 
could  rely.  His  colleague,  Lucius  Cinna,  though 
elected  under  the  pressure  of  the  legions,  was  of  more 
doubtful  temper.    But  Cinna  was  a  patrician,  though 


70  Cmar, 

given  to  popular  sentiments.  Sylla  was  impatient 
to  be  gone;  more  important  work  was  waiting  for 
him  than  composing  factions  in  Rome.  He  contented 
himself  with  obliging  the  new  consuls  to  take  an  oath 
to  maintain  the  constitution  in  the  shape  in  which 
he  left  it,  and  he  sailed  from  Brindisi  in  the  winter 
of  B.  c.  88. 

The  campaign  of  Sylla  in  the  East  does  not  fall  to 
be  described  in  this  place.  He  was  a  second  Corio- 
lanus,  a  proud,  imperious  aristocrat,  contemptuous, 
above  all  men  living,  of  popular  rights ;  but  he  was 
the  first  soldier  of  his  age ;  he  was  himself,  though 
he  did  not  know  it,  an  impersonation  of  the  change 
which  was  passing  over  the  Roman  character.  He 
took  with  him  at  most  30,000  men.  He  had  no  fleet. 
Had  the  corsair  squadrons  of  Mithridates  been  on 
the  alert,  they  might  have  destroyed  him  on  his  pas- 
sage. Events  at  Rome  left  him  almost  immediately 
without  support  from  Italy.  He  was  impeached,  he 
was  summoned  back.  His  troops  were  forbidden  to 
obey  him,  and  a  democratic  commander  was  sent  out 
to  supersede  him.  The  army  stood  by  their  favor- 
ite commander.  Sylla  disregarded  his  orders  from 
home.  He  found  men  and  money  as  he  could.  He 
supported  himself  out  of  the  countries  which  he  oc- 
cupied, without  resources  save  in  his  own  skill  and 
in  the  fidelity  and  excellence  of  his  legions.  He  de- 
feated Mithridates,  he  drove  him  back  out  of  Greece 
and  pursued  him  into  Asia.  The  interests  of  his  party 
demanded  his  presence  at  Rome ;  the  interests  of  the 
State  required  that  he  should  not  leave  his  work  in 
the  East  unfinished  ;  and  he  stood  to  it  through  four 
hard  years  till  he  brought  Mithridates  to  sue  for 
peace  upon  his  knees.   He  had  not  the  means  to  com- 


Sylla.  71 

plete  the  conquest  or  completely  to  avenge  the  massar 
ere  with  which  the  Prince  of  Pontus  had  commenced 
the  war.  He  left  Mithridates  still  in  possession  of 
his  hereditary  kingdom ;  but  he  left  him  bound,  so 
far  as  treaties  could  bind  so  ambitious  a  spirit,  to  re- 
main thenceforward  within  his  own  frontiers.  He 
recovered  Greece  and  the  Islands,  and  the  Roman 
provinces  in  Asia  Minor.  He  extorted  an  indemnity 
of  five  millions,  and  executed  many  of  the  wretches 
who  had  been  active  in  the  murders.  He  raised  a 
fleet  in  Egypt,  with  which  he  drove  the  pirates  out 
of  the  Archipelago  back  into  their  own  waters.  He 
restored  the  shattered  prestige  of  Roman  authority, 
and  he  won  for  himself  a  reputation  which  his  later 
cruelties  might  stain,  but  could  not  efface. 

The  merit  of  Sylla  shows  in  more  striking  colors 
when  we  look  to  what  was  passing,  during  these  four 
years  of  his  absence,  in  the  heart  of  the  Empire.  He 
was  no  sooner  out  of  Italy  than  the  democratic  party 
rose,  with  Cinna  at  their  head,  to  demand  the  resto- 
ration of  the  old  constitution.  Cinna  had  been  sworn 
to  maintain  Sylla's  reforms,  but  no  oath  could  be 
held  binding  which  was  extorted  at  the  sword's  point. 
A  fresh  Sulpicius  was  found  in  Carbo,  a  popular  trib- 
une. A  more  valuable  supporter  wa» found  in  Quin- 
tus  Sertorius,  a  soldier  of  fortune,  but  a  man  of  real 
gifts,  and  even  of  genius.  Disregarding  the  new  ob- 
ligation to  obtain  the  previous  consent  of  the  Senate, 
Cinna  called  the  assembly  together  to  repeal  the  acts 
which  Sylla  had  forced  on  them.  Sylla,  it  is  to  be 
remembered,  had  as  yet  won  no  victories,  nor  was 
expected  to  win  victories.  He  was  the  favorite  of 
the  Senate,  and  the  Senate  had  become  a  byword  for 
incapacity  and  failure.     Again,  as  so  many  times  be- 


72  Ccesar, 

fore,  the  supremacy  of  the  aristocrats  had  been  ac- 
companied with  dishonor  abroad,  and  the  lawless 
murder  of  political  adversaries  at  home.  No  true 
lover  of  his  country  could  be  expected,  in  Cinna's 
opinion,  to  sit  quiet  under  a  tyranny  which  had 
robbed  the  people  of  their  hereditary  liberties. 

The  patricians  took  up  the  challenge.  Octavius, 
the  other  consul,  came  with  an  armed  force  into  the 
Forum,  and  ordered  the  assembly  to  disperse.  The 
crowd  was  unusually  great.  The  country  voters  had 
come  in  large  numbers  to  stand  up  for  their  rights. 
They  did  not  obey.  They  were  not  called  on  to 
obey.  But  because  they  refused  to  disperse  they 
were  set  upon  with  deliberate  fur}^,  and  were  hewn 
down  in  heaps  where  they  stood.  No  accurate  reg- 
ister was  of  course  taken  of  the  numbers  killed ;  but 
the  intention  of  the  patricians  was  to  make  a  bloody 
example,  and  such  a  scene  of  slaughter  had  never 
been  witnessed  in  Rome  since  the  first  stone  of  the 
city  was  laid.  It  was  an  act  of  savage,  ruthless  feroc- 
ity, certain  to  be  followed  with  a  retribution  ^is  sharp 
and  as  indiscriminating.  Men  are  not  permitted  to. 
deal  wi£h  their  fellow  creatures  in  these  methods. 
Cinna  and  the  tribunes  fled,  but  fled  only  to  be  re- 
ceived with  opei^arms  by  the  Italians.  The  wounds 
of  the  Social  war  were  scarcely  cicatrized,  and  the 
peace  had  left  the  allies  imperfectly  satisfied.  Their 
dispersed  armies  gathered  again  about  Cinna  and 
Sertorius.  Old  Marius,  who  had  been  hunted 
through  marsh  and  forest,  and  had  been  hiding  with 
difficulty  in  Africa,  came  back  at  the  news  that  Italy 
had  risen  again  ;  and  six  thousand  of  his  veterans 
flocked  to  him  at  the  sound  of  his  name.  The  Sen- 
ate  issued  proclamations.    The  limitations  on  the  Ital- 


Marius  and  Oinna.  73 

ian  franchise  left  by  Sylla  were  abandoned.  Every 
privilege  which  had  been  asked  for  was  conceded. 
It  was  too  late.  Concessions  made  in  fear  might  be 
withdrawn  on  the  return  of  safety.  Marius  and 
Cinna  joined  their  forces.  .The  few  troops  in  the  pay 
of  the  Senate  deserted  to  them.  They  appeared  to- 
gether at  the  gates  of  the  city,  and  Rome  capitulated. 

There  was  a  bloody  score  to  be  wiped  out.  There 
would  have  been  neither  cruelty  nor  injustice  in  the 
most  severe  inquiry  into  the  massacre  in  the  Forum, 
and  the  most  exemplary  punishment  of  Octavius  and 
his  companions.  But  the  blood  of  the  people  was  up, 
and  they  had  suffered  too  deeply  to  wait  for  the  tardy 
processes  of  law.  They  had  not  been  the  aggressors. 
They  had  assembled  lawfully  to  assert  their  constitu- 
tional rights ;  they  had  been  cut  in  pieces  as  if  they 
had  been  insurgent  slaves,  and  the  assassins  were  not 
individuals,  but  a  political  party  in  the  State. 

Marius  bears  the  chief  blame  for  the  scenes  which 
followed.  Undoubtedly  he  was  in  no  pleasant  humor. 
A  price  had  been  set  on  his  head,  his  house  had  been 
destroyed,  his  property  had  been  confiscated,  he  him- 
self had  been  chased  like  a  wild  beast,  and  he  had 
not  deserved  such  treatment.  He  had  saved  Italy 
when  but  for  him  it  would  have  been  wasted  by  the 
swords  of  the  Germans.  His  power  had  afterwards 
been  absolute,  but  he  had  not  abused  it  for  party  pur- 
poses. The  Senate  had  no  reason  to  complain  of 
him.  He  had  touched  none  of  their  privileges,  inca- 
pable and  dishonest  as  he  knew  them  to  be.  His 
crime  in  their  eyes  had  been  his  eminence.  They 
had  now  shown  themselves  as  cruel  as  they  were 
worthless ;  and  if  public  justice  was  disposed  to  make 
an  end  of  them,  he  saw  no  cause  for  interference. 


74  Ccesar. 

Thus  the  familiar  story  repeated  itself;  wrong  was 
punished  by  wrong,  and  another  item  was  entered  on 
the  bloody  account  which  was  being  scored  up  year 
after  year.  The  noble  lords  and  their  friends  had 
killed  the  people  in  the  Forum.  They  were  killed  in 
turn  by  the  soldiers  of  Marius.  Fifty  senators  per- 
ished, not  those  who  were  specially  guilty,  but  those 
who  were  most  politically  marked  as  patrician  lead- 
ers. With  them  fell  a  thousand  equites,  commoners 
of  fortune,  who  had  thrown  in  their  lot  with  the  aris- 
tocracy. From  retaliatory  political  revenge  the  tran- 
sition was  easy  to  pillage  and  wholesale  murder ;  and 
for  many  days  the  wretched  city  was  made  a  prey  to 
robbers  and  cut-throats. 

So  ended  the  year  87,  the  darkest  and  bloodiest 
which  the  guilty  city  had  yet  experienced.  Marius 
and  Cinna  were  chosen  consuls  for  the  year  ensuing, 
and  a  witches'  prophecy  was  fulfilled,  that  Marius 
should  have  a  seventh  consulate.  But  the  glory  had 
departed  from  him.  His  sun  was  already  setting, 
redly,  among  crimson  clouds.  He  lived  but  a  fort- 
night after  his  inauguration,  and  he  died  in  his  bed 
on  the  13th  of  January,  at  the  age  of  seventy-one. 

"The  mother  of  the  Gracchi,"  said  Mirabeau, 
"  cast  the  dust  of  her  murdered  sons  into  the  air,  and 
out  of  it  sprang  Caius  Marius."  The  Gracchi  were 
perhaps  not  forgotten  in  the  retribution  ;  but  the 
crime  which  had  been  revenged  by  Marius  was  the 
massacre  in  the  Forum  by  Octavius  and  his  friends. 
The  aristocracy  found  no  mercy,  because  they  had 
shown  no  mercy.  They  had  been  guilty  of  the  most 
wantonly  wicked  cruelty  which  the  Roman  annals 
had  yet  recorded.  They  were  not  defending  their 
country  against  a  national  danger.     They  were  en- 


The  Democratic  Revolution.  75 

gaged  in  what  has  been  called  in  later  years  "  saving 
society,"  that  is  to  say,  in  saving  their  own  privileges, 
their  opportunities  for  plunder,  their  palaces,  their 
estates,  and  their  game  preserves.  They  had  treated 
the  people  as  if  they  were  so  many  cattle  grown 
troublesome  to  their  masters,  and  the  cattle  were  hu- 
man beings  with  rights  as  real  as  their  own. 

The  democratic"  party  were  now  masters  of  the  situ- 
ation, and  so  continued  for  almost  four  years.  Cinna 
succeeded  to  the  consulship  term  after  term,  nominat- 
ing himself  and  his  colleagues.  The  franchise  was 
given  tO'  the  Italians  without  reserve  or  qualification. 
Northern  Italy  was  still  excluded,  being  not  called 
Italy,  but  Cisalpine  Gaul.  South  of  the  Po  distinc- 
tions of  citizenship  ceased  to  exist.  The  constitution 
became  a  rehearsal  of  the  Empire,  a  democracy  con- 
trolled and  guided  by  a  popular  Dictator.  The  aristo- 
crats who  had  escaped  massacre  fled  to  Sylla  in  Asia, 
and  for  a  brief  interval  Rome  drew  its  breath  in 
peace. 


CHAPTER  VIII. 

Revolutionary  periods  are  painted  in  history  in 
colors  so  dark  that  the  reader  wonders  how,  amidst 
Buch  scenes,  peaceful  human  beings  could  continue  to 
exist.  He  forgets  that  the  historian  describes  only 
the  abnormal  incidents  which  broke  the  current  of 
ordinary  life,  and  that  between  the  spasms  of  vio- 
lence there  were  long  quiet  intervals  when  the  ordi- 
nary occupations  of  men  went  on  as  usual.  Cinna's 
continuous  consulship  was  uncomfortable  to  the  upper 
classes,  but  the  daily  business  of  a  great  city  pursued 
its  beaten  way.  Tradesmen  and  merchants  made 
money,  and  lawyers  pleaded,  and  priests  prayed  in 
the  temples,  and  "  celebrated  "  on  festival  and  holy 
day.  And  now  for  the  first  time  we  catch  a  personal 
view  of  young  Julius  Caesar.  He  was  growing  up, 
in  his  father's  house,  a  tall  slight  handsome  youth, 
with  dark  piercing  eyes,^  a  sallow  complexion,  large 
nose,  lips  full,  features  refined  and  intellectual,  neck 
sinewy  and  thick,  beyond  what  might  have  been  ex- 
pected from  the  generally  slender  figure.  He  was 
particular  about  his  appearance,  used  the  bath  fre- 
quently, and  attended  carefully  to  his  hair.  His  dress 
was  arranged  with  studied  negligence,  and  he  had  a 
loose  mode  of  fastening  his  girdle  so  peculiar  as  to 
catch  the  eye. 

It  may  be  supposed  that  be  had  witnessed  Sylla's 
coming  to  Rome,  the  camp-fires  in  the  Forum,  the 

1  "  Nigris  vegetisque  oculls." — Suetonius. 


Youth  and  Marriage,  11 

Octavian  massacre,  the  return  of  his  uncle  and  Cinna, 
and  the  bloody  triumph  of  the  party  to  which  his  fa- 
ther belonged.  He  was  just  at  the  age  when  sucb 
scenes  make  an  indelible  impression ;  and  the  con- 
nection of  his  family  with  Marius  suggests  easily  the 
persons  whom  he  must  have  most  often  seen,  and  the 
conversation  to  which  he  must  have  listened  at  his 
father's  table.  His  most  intimate  companions  were 
the  younger  Marius,  the  adopted  son  of  his  uncle ; 
and,  singularly  enough,  the  two  Ciceros,  Marcus  and 
his  brother  Quintus,  who  had  been  sent  by  their 
father  to  be  educated  at  Rome.  The  connection  of 
Marius  with  Arpinum.  was  perhaps  the  origin  of  the 
intimac}^  The  great  man  may  have  heard  of  his 
fellow-townsman's  children  being  in  the  city,  and 
have  taken  notice  of  them.  Certain,  at  any  rate,  it 
is  that  these  boys  grew  up  together  on  terms  of  close 
familiarity.^ 

Marius  had  observed  his  nephew,  and  had  marked 
him  for  promotion.  During  the  brief  fortnight  of 
his  seventh  consulship  he  gave  him  an  appointment, 
which  reminds  us  of  the  boy-bishops  of  the  Middle 
Ages.  He  made  him  flamen  dialis,  or  priest  of 
Jupiter,  and  a  member  of  the  Sacred  College,  with  a 
handsome  income,  when  he  was  no  more  than  four- 
teen. Two  years  later,  during  the  rule  of  Cinna,  his 
father  arranged  a  marriage  for  him  with  a  lady  of 
fortune  named  Cossutia.  But  the  young  Caesar  had 
more  ambitious  views  for  himself.     His  father  died 

1  "  Ac  primum  illud  tempus  familiaritatis  et  consuetudinia,  quae  mihi 
cum  illo,  quae  fratri  meo,  quae  Caio  Varroni,  consobrino  nostro,  ab  omnium 
nostrum  adolescentia  fuit,  praetermitto."  —  Cicero,  Be  Provinciis  Con- 
tularibus,  17.  Cicero  was  certainly  speaking  of  a  time  which  preceded 
Sylla's  dictatorship,  for  Caesar  left  Rome  immediately  after  it,  and  when 
he  came  back  he  attached  himself  to  the  political  party  to  which  Cicero 
was  most  opposed. 


78  Ccesar, 

suddenly  at  Pisa,  in  B.  c.  84;  he  used  his  freedom  to 
break  off  his  engagement,  and  instead  of  Cossutia  he 
married  Cornelia,  the  daughter  of  no  less  a  person 
than  the  all-powerful  Cinna  himself.  If  the  date 
commonly  received  for  Cassar's  birth  is  correct,  he  was 
still  only  in  his  seventeenth  year.  Such  connections 
were  rarely  formed  at  an  age  so  premature  ;  and  the 
doubt  is  increased  by  the  birth  of  his  daughter,  Julia, 
in  the  year  following.  Be  this  as  it  may,  a  marriage 
into  Cinna's  family  connected  Caesar  more  closely 
than  ever  with  the  popular  party.  Thus  early  and 
thus  definitely  he  committed  himself  to  the  pohtics  of 
his  uncle  and  his  father-in-law  ;  and  the  comparative 
quiet  which  Rome  and  Italy  enjoyed  under  Cinna's 
administration  may  have  left  a  permanent  impression 
upon  him. 

The  quiet  was  not  destined  to  be  of  long  endurance. 
The  time  was  come  when  Sylla  was  to  demand  a 
reckoning  for  all  which  had  been  done  in  his  absence. 
No  Roman  general  had  deserved  better  of  his  country 
than  Sylla.  He  had  driven  Mithridates  out  of  Greece, 
and  had  restored  Roman  authority  in  Asia  under  con- 
ditions peculiarly  difficult.  He  had  clung  resolutely 
to  his  work,  while  his  friends  at  home  were  being 
trampled  upon  by  the  populace  whom  he  despised. 
He  perhaps  knew  that  in  subduing  the  enemies  of  the 
State  by  his  own  individual  energy  he  was  taking  the 
surest  road  to  regain  his  ascendency.  His  task  was 
finished.  Mithridates  was  once  more  a  petty  Asiatic 
prince  existing  upon  sufferance,  and  Sylla  announced 
his  approaching  return  to  Italy.  By  his  victories  he 
had  restored  confidence  to  the  aristocracy,  and  had 
won  the  respect  of  millions  of  his  countrymen.  But 
the  party  in  power  knew  well  that  if  he  gained  a 


Return  of  Sylla  from  the  East.  79 

footing  in  Italy,  tlieir  day  was  over,  and  the  danger 
to  be  expected  from  him  was  aggravated  by  his 
transcendent  services.  The  Italians  feared  naturally 
that  they  would  lose  the  liberties  which  they  had 
won.  The  popular  faction  at  Rome  was  combined 
and  strong,  and  was  led  by  men  of  weight  and  prac- 
tical ability.  No  reconciliation  was  possible  between 
Cinna  and  Sylla.  They  were  the  respective  chiefs  of 
heaven  and  hell,  and  which  of  the  two  represented 
the  higher  power  and  which  the  lower  could  be  de- 
termined only  when  the  sword  had  decided  between 
them.  In  Cinna  lay  the  presumed  lawful  authority. 
He  represented  the  people  as  organized  in  the  Co- 
tnitia ;  and  his  colleague  in  the  consulship  when  the 
crisis  came,  was  the  popular  tribune,  Carbo.  Italy 
was  ready  with  armies ;  and  as  leaders  there  were 
young  Marius,  already  with  a  promise  of  greatness  in 
him,  and  Sertorius,  gifted,  brilliant,  unstained  by 
crime,  adored  by  his  troops  as  passionately  as  Sylla 
himself,  and  destined  to  win  a  place  for  himself  else- 
where in  the  Pantheon  of  Rome's  most  distinguished 
men. 

Sylla  had  measured  the  difficulty  of  the  task  which 
lay  before  him.  But  he  had  an  army  behind  him  ac- 
customed to  victory,  and  recruited  by  thousands  of 
exiles  who  had  fled  from  the  rule  of  the  democracy. 
He  had  now  a  fleet  to  cover  his  passage ;  and  he  was 
watching  the  movements  of  his  enemies  before  decid- 
ing upon  his  own,  when  accident  came  suddenly  to 
his  help.  Cinna  had  gone  down  to  Brindisi,  intend- 
ing himself  to  c-arry  his  army  into  Greece,  and  to 
spare  Italy  the  miseries  of  another  civil  war,  by  fight- 
ing it  out  elsewhere.  The  expedition  was  unpopular 
with  the  soldiers,  and  Cinna  was  killed  in  a  mutiny. 


80  Ccemr. 

The  democracy  was  thus  left  without  a  head,  and  the 
moderate  party  in  the  city  who  desired  peace  and 
compromise  used  the  opportunity  to  elect  two  neu- 
tral consuls,  Scipio  and  Norbanus.  Sylla,  perhaps 
supposing  the  change  of  feeling  to  be  more  complete 
than  it  really  was,  at  once  opened  communications 
with  them.  But  his  terms  were  such  as  he  might 
have  dictated  if  the  popular  party  were  already  un- 
der his  feet.  He  intended  to  reenter  Rome  with  the 
glory  of  his  conquests  about  him,  for  revenge,  and  a 
counter  revolution.  The  consuls  replied  with  refus- 
ing to  treat  with  a  rebel  in  arms,  and  with  a  com- 
mand to  disband  his  troops. 

Sylla  had  lingered  at  Athens,  collecting  paintings 
and  statues  and  manuscripts,  the  rarest  treasures  on 
which  he  could  lay  his  hands,  to  decorate  his  Roman 
palace.  On  receiving  the  consuls'  answer,  he  sailed 
for  Brindisi  in  the  spring  of  83,  with  forty  thousand 
legionaries  and  a  large  fleet.  The  south  of  Italy  made 
no  resistance,  and  he  secured  a  standing  ground 
where  his  friends  could  rally  to  him.  They  came  in 
rapidly,  some  for  the  cause  which  he  represented,  some 
for  private  hopes  or  animosities,  some  as  aspiring 
military  adventurers,  seeking  the  patronage  of  the 
greatest  soldier  of  the  age.  Among  these  last  came 
Cnseus  Pompey,  afterwards  Pompey  the  Great,  son 
of  Pompey,  surnamed  Strabo  or  the  squint-eyed, 
either  from  some  personal  deformity,  or  because  he 
had  trimmed  between  the  two  factions,  and  was  dis- 
trusted and  hated  by  them  both. 

Cnaeus  Pompey  had  been  born  in  the  same  year 
with  Cicero,  and  was  now  twenty-three.  He  was  a 
high-spirited  ornamental  youth,  with  soft  melting 
eyes,  as  good  as  he  was  beautiful,  and  so  delightful 


Sylla's  Return,  81 

to  women  that  it  was  said  they  all  longed  to  bite 
him.  The  Pompeys  had  been  hardly  treated  by 
Cinna.  The  father  had  been  charged  with  embezzle- 
ment. The  family  house  in  Rome  had  been  confis- 
cated ;  the  old  Strabo  had  been  killed  ;  the  son  had 
retired  to  his  family  estate  in  Picenum,^  where  he 
was  living  when  Sylla  landed.  To  the  young  Roman 
chivalry,  Sylla  was  a  hero  of  romance.  Pompey 
raised  a  legion  out  of  bis  friends  and  tenants,  scat- 
tered the  few  companies  that  tried  to  stop  him,  and 
rushed  to  the  side  of  the  deliverer.  Others  came, 
like  Sergius  Catiline  or  Oppianicus  of  Larino,^  men 
steeped  in  crime,  stained  with  murder,  incest,  adul- 
tery, forgery,  and  meaning  to  secure  the  fruits  of 
their  villainies  by  well-timed  service.  They  were  all 
welcome,  and  Sylla  was  not  particular.  His  prog- 
ress was  less  rapid  than  it  promised  to  be  at  the 
outset.  He  easily  defeated  Norbanus ;  and  Scipio's 
troops,  having  an  aristocratic  leaven  in  them,  de- 
serted to  him.  But  the  Italians,  especially  the  Sam- 
nites,  fought  most  desperately.  The  war  lasted  for 
more  than  a  year,  Sylla  slowly  advancing.  The 
Roman  mob  became  furious.  They  believed  their 
cause  betrayed,  and  were  savage  from  fear  and  dis- 
appointment. Suspected  patricians  were  murdered  : 
among  them  fell  the  Pontifex  Maximus,  the  venera- 
ble Scsevola.  At  length  the  contest  ended  in  a  des- 
perate fight  under  the  walls  of  Rome  itself  on  the  1st 
of  November,  B.  C.  82.  The  battle  began  at  four  in 
the  afternoon,  and  lasted  through  the  night  to  the 
dawn  of  the  following  day.  The  popular  army  was 
at  last  cut  to  pieces,  a  few  thousand  prisoners  were 

i  On  the  Adriatic,  between  Ancona  and  Pescara. 

2  See,  for  the  story  of  Oppianicus,  the  remarkable  speech  of  Cicero, 
Pm  Cluentio. 


82  Coesar, 

taken,  but  they  were  murdered  afterwards  in  cold 
blood.  Young  Marius  killed  himself,  Sertorius  fled 
to  Spain,  and  Sylla  and  the  aristocracy  were  masters 
of  Rome  and  Italy.  Such  provincial  towns  as  con- 
tinued to  resist  were  stormed  and  given  up  to  pillage, 
every  male  inhabitant  being  put  to  the  sword.  At 
Norba,  in  Latium,  the  desperate  citizens  fired  their 
own  bouses  and  perished  by  each  other's  hands. 

Sylla  was  under  no  illusions.  He  understood  the 
problem  which  he  had  in  hand.  He  knew  that  the 
aristocracy  were  detested  by  nine  tenths  of  the  peo- 
ple ;  he  knew  that  they  deserved  to  be  detested  ;  but 
they  were  at  least  gentlemen  by  birth  and  breeding. 
The  democrats,  on  the  other  hand,  were  insolent  up- 
starts, who,  instead  of  being  grateful  for  being  al- 
lowed to  live  and  work  and  pa}'^  taxes  and  serve  in 
the  army,  had  dared  to  claim  a  share  in  the  govern- 
ment, had  turned  against  their  masters,  and  had  set 
their  feet  upon  their  necks.  The  miserable  multi- 
tude were  least  to  blame.  They  were  ignorant,  and 
without  leaders  could  be  controlled  easily.  The  guilt 
and  the  danger  lay  with  the  men  of  wealth  and  intel- 
lect, the  country  gentlemen,  the  minority  of  knights 
and  patricians  like  Cinna,  who  had  taken  the  popular 
side  and  had  deserted  their  own  order.  Their  mo- 
tives mattered  not ;  some  might  have  acted  from 
foolish  enthusiasm ;  some  from  personal  ambition  ; 
but  such  traitors,  from  the  Gracchi  onwards,  had 
caused  all  the  mischief  which  had  happened  to  the 
State.  They  were  determined,  they  were  persever- 
ing. No  concessions  had  satisfied  them,  and  one  de- 
mand had  been  a  prelude  to  another.  There  was  no 
hope  for  an  end  of  agitation,  till  every  one  of  these 
men  had  been  rooted  out,  their  estates  taken  from 
them,  and  their  families  destroyed. 


The  Proscription  of  the  Democrats,  83 

To  this  remarkable  work  Sylla  addressed  himself, 
unconscious  that  he  was  attempting  an  impossibility, 
that  opinion  could  not  be  controlled  by  the  sword, 
and  that  for  every  enemy  to  the  oligarchy  that  he 
killed  he  would  create  twenty  by  his  cruelty.  Like 
Marius  after  the  Octavian  massacre,  he  did  not  at- 
tempt to  distinguish  between  degrees  of  culpability. 
Guilt  was  not  the  question  with  him.  His  object 
was  less  to  punish  the  past,  than  to  prevent  a  recur- 
rence of  it ;  and  moderate  opposition  was  as  objec- 
tionable as  fanaticism  and  frenzy.  He  had  no  inten- 
tion of  keeping  power  in  his  own  hands.  Personal 
supremacy  might  end  with  himself  ;  and  he  intended 
to  create  institutions  which  would  endure,  in  the 
form  of  a  close  senatorial  monopoly.  But  for  his 
purpose  it  would  be  necessary  to  remove  out  of  the 
way  every  single  person,  either  in  Rome  or  in  the 
provinces,  who  was  in  a  position  to  offer  active  re- 
sistance, and,  therefore,  for  the  moment  he  required 
complete  freedom  of  action.  The  Senate  at  his  di- 
rection appointed  him  Dictator,  and  in  this  capacity 
he  became  absolute  master  of  the  life  and  property 
of  every  man  and  woman  in  Italy.  He  might  be  im- 
peached afterwards  and  his  policy  reversed,  but  while 
his  office  lasted  he  could  do  what  he  pleased. 

He  at  once  outlawed  every  magistrate,  every  public 
lervant  of  any  kind,  civil  or  municipal,  who  had  held 
office  under  the  rule  of  Cinna.  Lists  were  drawn 
for  him  of  the  persons  of  wealth  and  consequence  all 
')ver  Italy  who  belonged  to  the  liberal  party.  He  se- 
lected agents  whom  he  could  trust,  or  supposed  he 
could  trust,  to  enter  the  names  for  each  district.  He 
selected,  for  instance,  Ojjpianicus  of  Larino,  who  in- 
scribed individuals  whom  he  had  already  murdered, 


84  Coesar, 

and  tlieir  relations  whose  prosecution  he  feared.  It 
mattered  little  to  Sylla  who  were  included,  if  none 
escaped  who  were  really  dangerous  to  him ;  and  an 
order  was  issued  for  the  slaughter  of  the  entire  num- 
ber, the  confiscation  of  their  property,  and  the  divi- 
sion of  it  between-  the  informers  and  Sylla's  friends 
and  soldiers.  Private  interest  was  thus  called  in  to 
assist  political  animosity ;  and  to  stimulate  the  zeal 
for  assassination  a  reward  of  500Z.  was  offered  for  the 
head  of  any  person  whose  name  was  in  the  sched- 
ule. 

It  was  one  of  those' deliberate  acts,  carried  out  with 
method  and  order,  which  are  possible  only  in  coun- 
tries in  an  advanced  stage  of  civilization,  and  which 
show  how  thin  is  the  film  spread  over  human  ferocity 
by  what  is  called  progress  and  culture.  We  read  in 
every  page  of  history  of  invasions  of  hostile  armies, 
of  towns  and  villages  destroyed,  and  countries  wasted 
and  populations  perishing  of  misery ;  the  simplest 
war  brings  a  train  of  horrors  behind  it ;  but  we  bear 
them  with  comparative  equanimity.  Personal  hatreds 
are  not  called  out  on  such  occasions.  The  actors  in 
them  are  neither  necessarily  nor  generally  fiends. 
The  grass  grows  again  on  the  trampled  fields.  Peace 
returns,  and  we  forget  and  forgive.  The  coldly  or- 
dered massacres  of  selected  victims  in  political  and 
spiritual  struggles  rise  in  a  different  order  of  feelings, 
and  are  remembered  through  all  ages  with  indigna- 
tion and  shame.  The  victims  perish  as  the  cham- 
pions of  principles  which  survive  through  the  changes 
of  time.  They  are  marked  for  the  sacrifice  on  ac- 
count of  their  advocacy  of  a  cause  which  to  half  nian- 
kind  is  the  cause  of  humanity.  They  are  the  martyrs 
of  history,  and  the  record  of  atrocity  rises  again  in 


The  Proscription  of  the  Demoerats,  85 

immortal  witness  against  the  opinions  out  of  which  it 
rose. 

Patricians  and  plebeians,  aristocrats  and  demo- 
crats, have  alike  stained  their  hands  with  blood  in  the 
working  out  of  the  problem  of  politics.  But  impartial 
history  also  declares  that  the  crimes  of  the  popular 
party  have  in  all  ages  been  the  lighter  in  degree, 
while  in  themselves  they  have  more  to  excuse  them ; 
and  if  the  violent  acts  of  revolutionists  have  been 
held  up  more  conspicuously  for  condemnation,  it  has 
been  only  because  the  fate  of  noblemen  and  gentle- 
men has  been  more  impressive  to  the  imagination 
than  the  fate  of  the  peasant  or  the  artisan.  But  the 
endurance  of  the  inequalities  of  life  by  the  poor  is 
the  marvel  of  human  society.  When  the  people  com- 
plain, said  Mirabeau,  the  people  are  always  right. 
The  popular  cause  has  been  the  cause  of  the  laborer 
struggling  for  a  right  to  live  and  breathe  and  think 
as  a  man.  Aristocracies  fight  for  wealth  and  power, 
weiilth  which  they  waste  upon  luxury,  and  power 
which  they  abuse  for  their  own  interests.  Yet  the 
cruelties  of  Marius  were  as  far  exceeded  by  the  cruel- 
ties of  Sylla  as  the  insurrection  of  the  beggars  of 
Holland  was  exceeded  by  the  bloody  tribunal  of  the 
Duke  of  Alva;  or  as  "the  horrors  of  the  French  Rev- 
olution "  were  exceeded  by  the  massacre  of  the  Hu- 
guenots two  hundred  years  before,  for  which  the  Rev- 
olution was  the  expiatory  atonement. 

Four  thousand  seven  hundred  persons  fell  in  the 
proscription  of  Sylla,  all  men  of  education  and  fort- 
une. The  real  crime  of  many  of  them  was  the  pos- 
session of  an  estate  or  a  wife  which  a  relative  or  a 
neighbor  coveted.  The  crime  alleged  against  all  was 
the  opinion  that  the  people  of  Rome  and  Italy  had 


86  Ccemr, 

rights  which  deserved  consideration  as  well  as  the 
senators  and  nobles.  The  liberal  party  were  extin- 
guished in  their  own  blood.  Their  estates  were  par- 
titioned into  a  hundred  and  twenty  thousand  allot- 
ments, which  were  distributed  among  Sylla's  friends, 
or  soldiers,  or  freed  men.  The  Land  reform  of  the 
Gracchi  was  mockingly  adopted  to  create  a  permanent 
aristocratic  garrison.  There  were  no  trials,  there 
were  no  pardons.  Common  report  or  private  infor- 
mation was  at  once  indictment  and  evidence,  and  ac- 
cusation was  in  itself  condemnation. 

The  ground  being  thus  cleared,  the  Dictator  took 
up  again  his  measures  of  political  reform.  He  did 
not  attempt  a  second  time  to  take  the  franchise  from 
the  Italians.  Romans  and  Italians  he  was  ready  to 
leave  on  the  same  level,  but  it  was  to  be  a  level  of  im- 
potence. Rome  was  to  be  ruled  by  the  Senate,  and 
as  a  first  step,  and  to  protect  the  Senate's  dignity,  he 
enfranchised  ten  thousand  slaves  who  had  belonged 
to  the  proscribed  gentlemen,  and  formed  them  into 
-a  senatorial  guard.  Before  departing  for  the  East, 
he  had  doubled  the  Senate's  numbers  out  of  the  pa- 
trician order.  Under  Cinna  the  new  members  had 
not  claimed  their  privilege,  and  had  probably  been 
absent  from  Italy.  They  were  now  installed  in  their 
places,  and  the  power  of  the  censors  to  revise  the  list 
and  remove  those  who  had  proved  unworthy  was 
taken  away.  The  senators  were  thus  peers  for  life, 
peers  in  a  single  chamber  which  Sylla  meant  to  make 
omnipotent.  Vacancies  were  to  be  supplied  as  before 
from  the  retiring  consuls,  prsetors,  cediles,  and  quaes- 
tors. The  form  of  a  popular  constitution  would  re- 
main, since  the  road  into  the  council  of  State  lay 
through  the  popular  elections.     But  to  guard  against 


Sylla^s  Reforms.  87 

popular  favorites  finding  access  to  the  consulship,  a 
provision  was  made  that  no  person  who  had  been  a 
tribune  of  the  people  could  be  chosen  afterwards  to 
any  other  office. 

The  Senate's  power  depended  on  the  withdrawal 
from  the  assembly  of  citizens  of  the  right  of  original 
legislation.  So  long  as  the  citizens  could  act  imme- 
diately at  the  invitation  of  either  consul  or  tribune 
they  could  repeal  at  their  pleasure  any  arrangement 
which  Sylla  might  prescribe.  As  a  matter  of  course, 
therefore,  he  reenacted  the  condition  which  restricted 
the  initiation  of  laws  to  the  Senate.  The  tribunes 
still  retained  their  veto,  but  a  penalty  was  attached  to 
the  abuse  of  the  veto;  the  Senate  being  the  judge  in 
its  own  cause,  and  possessing  a  right  to  depose  a  trib- 
une. 

In  the  Senate  so  reconstituted  was  thus  centred  a 
complete  restrictive  control  over  the  legislation  and 
the  administration.  And  this  was  not  alL  The  sen- 
ators had  been  so  corrupt  in  the  use  of  their  judicial 
functions  that  Gracchus  had  disabled  them  from  sit- 
ting in  the  law  courts,  and  had  provided  that  the 
iudges  should  be  chosen  in  future  from  the  Equites. 
The  knights  had  been  exceptionally  pure  in  their  of- 
fice. Cicero  challenged  his  opponents  on  the  trial  of 
Verres  ^  to  find  a  single  instance  in  which  an  Eques- 
trian court  could  be  found  to  have  given  a  corrupt 
verdict  during  the  forty  years  for  which  their  priv- 
ilege survived.  But  their  purity  did  not  save  them, 
nor,  alas !  those  who  were  to  suffer  by  a  reversion  to 
the  old  order.     The  Equestrian  courts  were  abolished  : 

1  Appian,  on  the  other  hand,  says  that  the  Conrts  of  the  Equites  had 
been  more  corrupt  than  the  Senatorial  courts.  —  De  Bello  Civili,  i.  22.  Cic- 
ero was,  perhaps,  prejudiced  in  favT>r  of  liis  own  order;  but  a  contempo- 
r»ry  statement  tiuis  publicly  made  is  far  more  likely  to  be  trustworthy. 


88  Ccesar. 

the  Senatorial  courts  were  reinstated.  It  might  be 
hoped  that  the  senators  had  profited  by  their  lesson, 
and  for  the  future  would  be  careful  of  their  reputa- 
tion. 

Changes  were  made  also  in  the  modes  of  election 
to  office.  The  College  of  Priests  had  been  originally 
a  close  corporation,  which  filled  up  its  own  numbers. 
Democracy  had  thrown  it  open  to  competition,  and 
given  the  choice  to  the  people.  Sylla  reverted  to  the 
old  rule.  Consuls  like  Marius  and  Cinna,  who  had 
the  confidence  of  the  people,  had  been  reelected  year 
after  year,  and  had  been  virtual  kings.  Sylla  pro- 
vided that  ten  years  must  elapse  between  a  first  con- 
sulship and  a  second.  Nor  was  any  one  to  be  a  con- 
sul who  was  not  forty-three  years  old,  and  had  not 
passed  already  through  the  lower  senatorial  offices  of 
praetor  or  qusestor. 

The  assembly  of  the  people  had  been  shorn  of  its 
legislative  powers.  There  was  no  longer,  therefore, 
any  excuse  for  its  meeting,  save  on  special  occasions. 
To  leave  the  tribunes  power  to  call  the  citizens  to 
the  Forum  was  to  leave  them  the  means  of  creating 
inconvenient  agitation.  It  was  ordered,  therefore, 
that  the  assembly  should  only  come  together  at  the 
Senate's  invitation.  The  free  grants  of  corn,  which 
filled  the  city  with  idle  vagrants,  were  abolished. 
Sylla  never  courted  popularity  and  never  shrank  from 
fear  of  clamor. 

The  Senate  was  thus  made  omnipotent  and  irre- 
sponsible. It  had  the  appointment  of  all  the  gov- 
ernors of  the  provinces.  It  was  surrounded  by  its 
own  body-guard.  It  had  the  administration  com- 
pletely in  hand.  The  members  could  be  tried  only 
by  their  peers,  and  were  themselves  judges  of  every 


The  Syllan  Constitution,  89 

other  order.  No  legal  force  was  left  anywhere  to  in- 
terfere with  what  it  might  please  them  to  command. 
A  senator  was  not  necessarily  a  patrician,  nor  a  pa- 
trician a  senator.  The  Senate  was,^  or  was  to  be  as 
time  wore  on,  a  body  composed  of  men  of  any  order 
who  had  secured  the  suffrages  of  the  people.  But., 
as  the  value  of  the  prize  became  so  vast,  the  way  to 
the  possession  of  it  was  open  practically  to  those  only 
who  had  wealth  or  interest.  The  elections  came  to 
be  worked  by  organized  committees ;  and,  except  in 
extraordinary  circumstances,  no  candidate  could  ex- 
pect success  who  had  not  the  Senate's  support,  or 
who  had  not  bought  the  services  of  the  managers,  at 
a  cost  within  the  reach  only  of  the  reckless  spend- 
thrift or  the  speculating  millionnaire. 

What  human  foresight  could  do  to  prevent  democ- 
racy from  regaining  the  ascendency,  Sylla  had  thus 
accomplished.  He  had  destroj^ed  the  opposition  ;  he 
had  reorganized  the  constitution  on  the  most  strictly 
conservative  lines.  He  had  built  the  fortress,  as  he 
said  ;  it  was  now  the  Senate's  part  to  provide  a  garri- 
son ;  and  here  it  was,  as  Csesar  said  afterwards,  that 
Sylla  had  made  his  great  mistake.  His  arrangements 
were  ingenious,  and  many  of  them  excellent ;  but  the 
narrower  the  body  to  whose  care  the  government  was 
intrusted,  the  more  important  became  the  question  of 
the  composition  of  this  body.  The  theory  of  election 
implied  that  they  would  be  the  best  that  the  Repub- 
lic possessed ;  but  Sylla  must  have  been  himself  con- 
scious that  fact  and  theory  might  be  very  far  from 
corresponding. 

The  key  of  the  situation  was  the  army.  As  before, 
DC  troops  were  to   be  maintained  in  Italy ;  but  be- 

^  Sylla  bad  himself  nominated  a  larfce  number  of  senators. 


90  Ccesar. 

yond  the  frontiers,  the  provinces  were  held  by  mili- 
tary force,  and  the  only  power  which  could  rule  the 
Empire  was  the  power  which  the  army  would  obey. 
It  was  not  for  the  Senate's  sake  that  Sylla's  troops 
had  followed  him  from  Greece.  It  was  from  their 
personal  devotion  to  himself.  What  charm  was  there 
in  this  new  constructed  aristocratic  oligarchy,  that 
distant  legions  should  defer  to  it  —  more  than  Sylla's 
legions  had  deferred  to  orders  from  Cinna  and  Carbo? 
Symptoms  of  the  danger  from  this  quarter  were  al- 
ready growing  even  under  the  Dictator's  own  eyes, 
and  at  the  height  of  his  authority.  Sertorius  had  es- 
caped the  proscription.  After  wandering  in  Africa, 
he  made  his  way  into  Spain ;  where,  by  his  genius  as 
a  statesman  and  a  soldier,  he  rose  .into  a  position  to 
defy  the  Senate  and  assert  his  independence.  He 
organized  the  Peninsula  after  the  Roman  model;  he 
raised  armies,  and  defeated  commander  after  com- 
mander who  was  sent  to  reduce  him.  He  revived 
in  the  Spaniards  a  national  enthusiasm  for  freedom. 
The  Roman  legionaries  had  their  own  opinions,  and 
those  whose  friends  Sylla  had  murdered  preferred 
Sertorius  and  liberty  to  Rome  and  an  aristocratic 
Senate.  Unconquerable  by  honorable  means,  Serto- 
rius was  poisoned  at  last.  But  his  singular  history 
suggests  a  doubt  whether,  if  the  Syllan  constitution 
had  survived,  other  Sertoriuses  might  not  have  sprung 
up  in  every  province,  and  the  Empire  of  Rome  have 
gone  to  pieces  like  the  Macedonian.  The  one  condi- 
tion of  the  continuance  of  the  Roman  dominion  was 
the  existence  of  a  central  authority  which  the  army 
as  a  profession  could  respect;  and  the  traditionary 
reverence  which  attached  to  the  Roman  Senate  would 
scarcely  have  secured  their  disinterested  iittachment 


Pompey.  91 

to  five  hundred   elderly  rich   men  who  had  bought 
their  way  into  preeminence. 

Sylla  did  not  live  to  see  the  significance  of  the  Ser- 
torian  revolt.  He  experienced,  however,  himself,  in 
a  milder  form,  an  explosion  of"  military  sauciness. 
Young  Pompey  had  been  sent,  after  the  occupation 
of  Rome,  to  settle  Sicily  and  Africa.  He  did  his 
work  well  and  rapidly,  and  when  it  was  over  he  re- 
ceived orders  from  the  Senate  to  dismiss  his  troops. 
An  order  from  Sylla,  Pompey  would  have  obeyed ; 
but  what  was  the  Senate,  that  an  ambitious  brilliant 
youth  with  arms  in  his  hands  should  send  away  an 
army  devoted  to  him  and  step  back  into  common 
life  ?  Sylla  himself  had  to  smooth  the  ruffled  plumes 
of  his  asi3iring  follower.  He  liked  Pompey;  he  was 
under  obligations  to  him,  and  Pompey  had  not  acted 
after  all  in  a  manner  so  very  unlike  his  own.  He  sum- 
moned him  home;  but  he  gave  him  a  triumph  for 
his  Afi-ican  conquests,  and  allowed  him  to  call  him- 
self by  the  title  of  "  Magnus  "  or  "  The  Greats  Pom- 
pey was  a  promising  soldier,  without  political  ambi- 
tion, and  was  worth  an  effort  to  secure.  To  prevent 
the  risk  of  a  second  act  of  insubordination,  Sylla  made 
personal  arrangements  to  attach  Pompey  directly  to 
himself.  He  had  a  stepdaughter,  named  JEmilia. 
She  was  already  married,  and  was  pregnant.  Pom- 
pey too  was  married  to  Antistia,  a  lady  of  good  fam- 
ily ;  but  domestic  ties  were  not  allowed  to  stand  in 
the  way  of  higher  objects.  -  Nor  did  it  matter  tliat 
Antistia's  father  had  been  murdered  by  the  Roman 
populace  for  taking  Sylla's  side,  or  that  her  mother 
had  gone  mad  and  destroyed  herself,  on  her  hus- 
band's horrible  death.  Late  Republican  Rome  was 
not  troubled  with  sentiment.     Sylla  invited  Pompey 


92  Cmar, 

to  divorce  Antistia  and  marry  JEmilia.  Pompey  com- 
plied. Antistia  was  sent  away.  Emilia  was  di- 
vorced from  her  husband,  and  was  brought  into  Pom- 
pey's  house,  where  she  immediately  died. 

In  another  young  man  of  high  rank,  whom  Sylla 
attempted  to  attach  to  himself  by  similar  meaiiS,  he 
found  less  complaisance.  Caesar  was  now  eighteen  : 
his  daughter  Julia  having  been  lately  born.  He  had 
seen  his  party  ruined,  his  father-in-law  and  young 
Marius  killed,  and  his  nearest  friends  dispersed  or 
murdered.  He  had  himself  for  a  time  escaped  pro- 
scription ;  but  the  Dictator  had  his  eye  on  him,  and 
Sylla  had  seen  something  in  "the  youth  with  the 
loose  girdle"  which  struck  him  as  remarkable.  Close- 
ly connected  though  Caesar  was  both  with  Cinna  and 
Marius,  Sylla  did  not  wish  to  kill  him,  if  he  could 
help  it.  There  was  a  cool  calculation  in  his  cruelties. 
The  existing  generation  of  democrats  was  incurable, 
but  he  knew  that  the  stability  of  the  new  constitu- 
tion must  depend  on  his  being  able  to  conciliate  the 
intellect  and  energy  of  the  next.  Making  a  favor  per- 
haps of  his  clemency,  he  proposed  to  Caesar  to  break 
with  his  liberal  associates,  divorce  Cinna's  daughter, 
and  take  such  a  wife  as  he  would  himself  provide. 
If  Pompey  had  complied,  who  had  made  a  position  of 
his  own,  much  more  might  it  be  expected  that  Csesar 
would  comply.  Yet  Caesar  answered  with  a  distinct 
and  unhesitating  refusal.  The  terrible  Sylla,  in  the 
fullness  of  his  strength,  after  desolating  half  the 
homes  in  Italy,  after  revolutionizing  all  Roman  soci- 
ety; from  the  peasant's  cottage  in  the  Apennines  to 
the  senate-house  itself,  was  defied  by  a  mere  boy  1 
Throughout  his  career  Caesar  displayed  always  a 
ii*^.g'.ilar  indifference  to  life.     He  had  no  sentimental 


Ccesar  and  Sylla.  93 

passion  about  him;  no  Byronic  mock  heroics.  He 
had  not  much  belief  either  in  God  or  the  gods.  On 
all  such  questions  he  observed  from  first  to  last  a  • 
profound  silence.  But  one  conviction  he  had.  He 
intended  if  he  was  to  live  at  all,  to  live  mabter  of 
himself  in  matters  which  belonged  to  himself.  Sylla 
might  kill  him  if  he  so  pleased.  It  was  better  to  dieu- 
than  to  put  away  a  wife  who  was  the  mother  of  his 
child,  and  to  marry  some  other  woman  at  a  Dic- 
tator's bidding.  Life  on  such  terms  was  not  worth, 
keeping. 

So  proud  a  bearing  may  have  commanded  Sylla's 
admiration,  but  it  taught  him,  also,  that  a  young  man 
capable  of  assuming  an  attitude  so  bold,  might  be 
dangerous  to  the  rickety  institutions  which  he  had 
constructed  so  carefully.  He  tried  coercion.  He  de- 
prived Cassar  of  his  priesthood.  He  took  his  wife's 
dowry  from  him,  and  confiscated  the  estate  which  he 
had  inherited  from  his  father.  When  this  produced 
no  effect,  the  rebellious  youth  was  made  over  to  the 
assassins,  and  a  price  was  set  upon  his  head.  He  fled 
into  concealment.  He  was  discovered  once,  and  es- 
caped only  by  bribing  Sylla's  satellites.  His  fate 
Avould  soon  have  overtaken  him,  but  he  had  powerful 
relations,  whom  Sylla  did  not  care  to  offend.  Aure- 
lius  Cotta,  who  was  perhaps  his  mother's  brother, 
Mamercus  JEmilius,  a  distinguished  patrician,  and 
singularly  also  the  College  of  the  Vestal  Virgins,  in- 
terceded for  his  pardon.  The  Dictator  consented  at 
last,  but  with  prophetic  reluctance.  "  Take  him,"  he 
eaid  at  length,  "since  you  will  have  it  so  —  biit  I 
wouid  have  you  know  that  the  youth  for  whom  you 
are  so  earnest  will  one  day  overthrow  the  aristocracy, 
for  whom  you  and  I  have  fought  so  hardly-;  in  this 


94  Ccesar, 

young  Caesar  there  ar^  many  Mariuses."^  Caesar, 
not  trusting  too  much  to  Sylla's  forbearance,  at  once 
left  Italy,  and  joined  the  army  in  Asia.  The  little 
party  of  young  men  who  had  grown  up  together  now 
separated,  to  meet  in  the  future  on  altered  terms.. 
Cassar  held  to  his  inherited  convictions,  remaining 
constant  through  good  and  evil  to  the  cause  of  hia 
uncle  Marius.  His  companion  Cicero,  now  ripening 
into  manhood,  chose  the  other  side.  With  his  talents 
for  his  inheritance,  and  confident  in  the  consciousness 
of  power,  but  with  weak  health  and  a  neck  as  thin 
as  a  woman's,  Cicero  felt  that  he  had  a  future  before 
him,  but  that  his  successes  must  be  won  by  other 
weapons  than  arms.  He  chose  the  bar  for  his  profes- 
sion; he  resolved  to  make  his  way  into  popularity  as 
a  pleader  before  the  Senate  courts  and  in  the  Forum. 
He  looked  to  the  Senate  itself  as  the  ultimate  object 
of  his  ambition.  There  alone  he  could  hope  to  bo 
distinguished,  if  distinguished  he  was  to  be. 

Cicero,  however,  was  no  more  inclined  than  Caesar 
to  be  subservient  to  Sylla,  as  he  took  an  early  oppor- 
tunity of  showing.  It  was  to  the  cause  of  the  consti- 
tution, and  not  to  the  person  of  the  Dictator,  that 
Cicero  had  attached  himself,  and  he,  too,  ventured  to 
give  free  expression  to  his  thoughts  when  free  speech 
was  still  dangerous. 

Sylla's  career  was  drawing  to  its  close,  and  the  end 
was  not  the  least  remarkable  feature  of  it.  On  him 
had  fallen  the  odium  of  the  proscription  and  the  stain 
of  the  massacres.  The  sooner  the  senators  could  be 
detached  from  the  soldier  who  had  saved  them  from 


1  So  says  Suetonius,  reporting  the  traditions  of  the  following  century 
but  the  authorit}-  is  doubtful;  and  the  story,  like  so  many  otliers  is  per- 
bapa  apocryphal. 


Retirement  of  Sylla,  95 

destruction,  the  better  cliance  tbey  would  have  of 
conciliating  quiet  people  on  whose  support  they  must 
eventually  rely.  Sylla  himself  felt  the  position ;  and 
having  completed  what  he  had  undertaken,  with  a 
half  pitying,  half  contemptuous  self-abandonment,  he 
executed  what  from  the  first  he  had  intended ;  he  re- 
signed -the  Dictatorship,  and  became  a  private  citizen 
again,  amusing  the  leisure  of  his  age,  as  he  had  abused 
the  leisure  of  his  youth,  with  theatres,  and  actresses, 
and  dinner-parties.  He  too,  like  so  many  of  the  great 
Romans,  was  indifferent  to  life ;  of  power  for  the  sake 
of  power  he  was  entirely  careless ;  and  if  his  retire- 
ment had  been  more  dangerous  to  him  than  it  really 
was,  he  probably  would  not  have  postponed  it.  He 
was  a  person  of  singular  character,  and  not  without 
many  qualities  which  were  really  admirable.  He  was 
free  from  any  touch  of  charlatanry.  He  was  true, 
simple,  and  unaffected,  and  even  without  ambition  in 
the  mean  and  personal  sense.  His  fault,  which  he 
would  have  denied  to  be  a  fault,  was  that  he  had  a 
patrician  disdain  of  mobs  and  suffrages  and  the  cant 
of  popular  liberty.  The  type  repeats  itself  era  after 
era.  Sylla  was  but  Graham  of  Claverhouse  in  a  Ro- 
man dress  and  with  an  ampler  stage.  His  courage  in 
laying  down  his  authority  has  been  often  commented 
on,  but  the  risk  which  he  incurred  was  insignificant. 
There  was  in  Rome  neither  soldier  nor  statesman  who 
could  for  a  moment  be  placed  in  competition  with. 
Sylla,  and  he  Avas  so  passionately  loved  by  the  army, 
he  was  so  sure  of  the  support  of  his  comrades,  whom 
he  had  quartered  on  the  proscribed  lands,  and  who, 
for  their  own  interest's  sake,  would  resist  attempts  at 
counter-revolution,  that  he  knew  that  if  an  emergency 
arose  he  had  but  to  lift  his  finger  to  reinstate  himself 


96  Ci2sar, 

in  command.  Of  assassination  he  was  in  no  greater 
danger  tlian  when  Dictator,  whileHlie  temptation  to 
assassinate  him  was  less.  His  influence  was  practi- 
cally undiminished,  and  as  long  as  he  lived,  he  re- 
mained, and  could  not  but  remain,  the  first  person  in 
the  Republic. 

Some  license  of  speech  he  was,  of  course,  prepared 
for,  but  it  required  no  small  courage  to  make  a  public 
attack  either  on  himself  or  his  dependants,  and  it  was, 
therefore,  most  creditable  to  Cicero  that  his  first 
speech  of  importance  was  directed  against  the  Dicta- 
tor's immediate  friends,  and  was  an  exposure  of  the 
iniquities  of  the  proscription.  Cicero,  no  doubt,  knew 
that  there  would  be  no  surer  road  to  favor  with  the 
Roman  multitude  than  by  denouncing  Sylla's  follow- 
ers, and  that,  young  and  unknown  as  he  was,  his  in- 
significance might  protect  him,  however  far  he  vent- 
ured. But  he  had  taken  the  Senate's  side.  From 
first  to  last  he  had  approved  of  the  reactionary  con- 
stitution, and  had  only  condemned  the  ruthless  meth- 
ods by  which  it  had  been  established.  He  never 
sought  the  popularity  of  a  demagogue,  or  appealed  to 
popular  passions,  or  attempted  to  create  a  prejudice 
against  the  aristocracy,  into  whose  ranks  he  intended 
to  make  his  way.  He  expressed  the  opinions  of  the 
respectable  middle  classes,  who  had  no  sympathy  with 
revolutionists,  but  who  dreaded  soldiers  and  military 
rule  and  confiscations  of  propert3^ 

The  occasion  on  which  Cicero  came  forward  was 
characteristic  of  the  time.  Sextus  Roscius  was  a 
country  gentleman  of  good  position,  residing  near 
Ameria,  in  Umbria.  He  had  been  assassinated  when 
on  a  visit  to  Rome  by  two  of  his  relations,  who  wished 
fco  get  possession  of  his  estate.     The  proscription  wag 


First  Public  Appearance  of  Cicero,  97 

over,  and  the  list  had  been  closed;  but  Roscius's 
name  was  surreptitiously  entered  upon  it,  with  the 
help  of  Sylla's  favorite  freedman,  Chrysogonus.  The 
assassins  obtained  an  acknowledgment  of  their  claims, 
and  they  and  Chrysogonus  divided  the  spoils.  Sex- 
tus  Roscius  was  entirely  innocent.  He  had  taken  no 
part  in  politics  at  all.  He  had  left  a  son  who  was  his 
natural  heir,  and  the  township  of  Ameria  sent  up  a 
petition  to  Sylla  remonstrating  against  so  iniquitous 
a  robbery.  The  conspirators,  finding  themselves  in 
danger  of  losing  the  reward  of  their  crime,  shifted 
their  ground.  They  denied  that  they  had  themselves 
killed  Sextus  Roscius.  They  said  that  the  son  had 
done  it,  and  they  charged  him  with  parricide.  Wit- 
nesses were  easily  provided.  No  influential  pleader, 
it  was  justly  supposed,  would  venture  into  antago- 
nism with  83^11  a's  favorite,  and  appear  for  the  defence. 
Cicero  heard  of  the  case,  however,  and  used  the  op- 
portunity to  bring  himself  into  notice.  He  advocated 
young  Roscius's  cause  with  skill  and  courage.  He 
told  the  whole  story  in  court  without  disguise.  He 
did  not  blame  Sylla.  He  compared  Sylla  to  Jupiter 
Optimus  Maximus,  who  was  sovereign  of  the  Uni- 
verse, and  on  the  whole  a  good  sovereign,  but  with 
so  much  business  on  his  hands  that  he  had  not  time 
to  look  into  details.  But  Cicero  denounced  Chrys- 
ogonus as  an  accomplice  in  an  act  of  atrocious  vil- 
lainy. The  court  took  the  same  view,  and  the  rising 
orator  had  the  honor  of  clearing  the  reputation  of 
the  injured  youth,  and  of  recovering  his  property  for 
him. 

Sylla   showed   no   resentment,    and    probably   felt 
none.     He  lived  for  a  year  after  his  retirement,  and 
died  78  b.  c,  being  occupied  at  the  moment  in  wrifc- 
T 


98  OoBsar, 

ing  his  memoirs,  which  have  been  unfortunately  lost. 
He  was  buried  gorgeously  in  the  Campus  Martins, 
among  the  old  kings  of  Rome.  The  aristocrats 
breathed  freely  when  delivered  from  his  overpower- 
ing presence,  and  the  constitution  which  he  had  set 
upon  its  feet  was  now  to  be  tried. 


CHAPTER  IX. 

The  able  men  of  the  democracy  had  fallen  in  the 
proscription.  Sertorius,  the  only  eminent  surviving 
Boldier  belonging  to  them,  was  away,  making  himself 
independent  in  Spain.  The  rest  were  all  killed. 
But  the  Senate,  too,  had  lost  in  Sylla  the  single 
statesman  that  they  possessed.  They  were  a  body 
of  mediocrities,  left  with  absolute  power  in  their 
hands,  secure  as  they  supposed  from  further  inter- 
ference, and  able  to  return  to  those  pleasant  occupa- 
tions which  for  a  time  had  been  so  rudely  inter- 
rupted. Sertorius  was  an  awkward  problem  with 
which  Pompey  might  perliaps  be  intrusted  to  deal. 
No  one  knew  as  yet  what  stuff  might  be  in  Pompey. 
He  was  for  the  present  sunning  himself  in  his  mili- 
tary splendors  ;  too  young  to  come  forward  as  a  poli- 
tician, and  destitute,  so  far  as  appeared,  of  political 
ambition.  If  Pompey  promised  to  be  docile,  he 
might  be  turned  to  use  at  a  proper  time ;  but  the 
aristocracy  had  seen  too  much  of  successful  military 
commanders,  and  were  in  no  hurry  to  give  opportuni- 
ties of  distinction  to  a  youth  who  had  so  saucily  de- 
fied them.  Sertorius  was  far  off,  and  could  be  dealt 
with  at  leisure. 

In  his  defence  of  Roscius,  Cicero  had  given  an  ad- 
monition to  the  noble  lords  that  unless  they  mended 
their  ways  they  could  not  look  for  any  long  continu- 
ance.^    They  regarded  Cicero  perhaps,  if  they  heard 

1  "ITnumhoc  dico :  nostri  isti  nobiles,  nisi  vigilantes  et  boni  et  fortes 
et  misericordes  erunt,  iis  hominibns  in  quibus  ha3C  erunt,  ornamenta  sua 
sontodant  necesse  est."  — Pro  Roscio  Amerlno,  sec.  48. 


100  Cmmr, 

what  he  said  of  them,  as  an  inexperienced  young 
man,  who  would  understand  better  by  and  by  of 
what  materials  the  world  was  made.  There  had 
been  excitement  and  anxiety  enough.  Conservatism 
was  in  power  again.  Fine  gentlemen  could  once 
more  lounge  in  their  clubs,  amuse  themselves  with 
their  fish-ponds  and  horses  and  mistresses,  devise  new 
and  ever  new  means  of  getting  money  and  spending 
it,  and  leave  the  Roman  Empire  for  the  present  to 
govern  itself. 

The  leading  public  men  belonging  to  the  party  in 
power  had  all  served  in  some  capacity  or  other  with 
Sylla  or  under  him.  Of  those  whose  names  deserve 
particular  mention  there  were  at  most  five. 

Licinius  LucuUus  had  been  a  special  favorite  of 
Sylla.  The  Dictator  left  him  his  executor,  with  the 
charge  of  his  manuscripts.  Lucullus  was  a  com- 
moner, but  of  consular  family,  and  a  thorough-bred 
aristocrat.  He  had  endeared  himself  to  Sylla  by  a 
languid  talent  which  could  rouse  itself  when  neces- 
sary into  brilliant  activity,  by  the  easy  culture  of  a 
polished  man  of  rank,  and  by  a  genius  for  luxury, 
which  his  admirers  followed  at  a  distance,  imitating 
their  master  but  hopeless  of  overtaking  him. 

Csecilius  Metellus,  son  of  the  Metellus  whom  Ma- 
rius  had  superseded  in  Africa,  had  been  consul  with 
Sylla  in  80  B.  c.  He  was  now  serving  in  Spain 
against  Sertorius,  and  was  being  gradually  driven  out 
of  the  Peninsula. 

Lutatius  Catulus  was  a  proud  but  honest  patrician, 
with  the  conceit  of  his  order,  but  without  their  vices. 
His  father,  who  had  been  Marius's  colleague,  and  had 
been  defeated  by  the  Cimbri,  had  killed  himself  dur- 
ing the  Marian  revolution.     The   son  had  escaped, 


Crassus.    ,.      /\  \     I -V^' > ' )  iifi'i 

and  was  one  of  the  consuls  at  the  time  of  Sylla's 
death. 

More  noticeable  than  either  of  these  was  Marcus 
Crassus,  a  figure  singularly  representative,  of  plebe- 
ian family,  but  a  family  long  adopted  into  the  closest 
circle  of  the  aristocracy,  the  leader  and  impersonation 
of  the  great  moneyed  classes  in  Rome.  Wealth  had 
for  several  generations  been  the  characteristic  of  the 
Crassi.  They  had  the  instinct  and  the  temperament 
which  in  civilized  ages  take  to  money-making  as  a 
natural  occupation.  In  politics  they  aimed  at  being 
on  the  successful  side ;  but  living,  as  they  did,  in  an 
era  of  revolutions,  they  were  surprised  occasionally  in 
unpleasant  situations.  Crassus  the  rich,  father  of 
Marcus,  had  committed  himself  against  Marius,  and 
had  been  allowed  the  privilege  of  being  his  own  exe- 
cutioner. Marcus  himself,  who  was  a  little  older 
than  Cicero,  took  refuge  in  Sylla's  camp.  He  made 
himself  useful  to  the  Dictator  by  his  genius  for 
finance,  and  in  return  he  was  enabled  to  amass  an 
enormous  fortune  for  himself  out  of  the  proscriptions. 
His  eye  for  business  reached  over  the  whole  Roman 
Empire.  He  was  banker,  speculator,  contractor, 
merchant.  He  lent  money  to  the  spendthrift  young 
lords,  but  with  sound  securities  and  at  usurious  in- 
terest. He  had  an  army  of  slaves  —  but  these  slaves 
were  not  ignorant  field  hands ;  they  were  skilled 
workmen  in  all  arts  and  trades,  whose  labors  he 
turned  to  profit  in  building  streets  and  palaces. 
Thus  all  that  he  touched  turned  to  gold.  He  was 
the  wealthiest  single  individual  in  the  whole  Em- 
pire, the  acknowledged  head  of  the  business  world  of 
Rome. 

The  last  person  who  need  be  noted  was  Marcus 


102  Ccesar. 

^milius  Lepidus,  the  father  of  the  future  colleague 
of  Augustus  and  Antony.  Lepidus,  too,  had  been 
an  officer  of  Sylla's.  He  had  been  rewarded  for  his 
services  by  tlie  government  of  Sicily,  and  when  Sylla 
died  was  the  second  consul  with  Catulus.  It  "was 
said  against  him  that,  like  so  many  other  governors, 
he  had  enriched  himself  by  tyrannizing  over  his  Sicil- 
ian subjects.  His  extortions  had  been  notorious  ;  he 
was  threatened  with  prosecution  as  soon  as  his  con- 
sulship should  expire ;  and  the  adventure  to  which 
he  was  about  to  commit  himself  was  undertaken,  so 
the  aristocrats  afterwards  maintained,  in  despair  of 
an  acquittal.  Lepidus's  side  of  the  story  was  never 
told,  but  another  side  it  certainly  had.^  Though  one 
of  Sylla's  generals,  he  had  married  the  daughter  of 
the  tribune  Saturninus.  He  had  been  elected  consul 
by  a  very  large  majority  against  the  wishes  of  the 
Senate,  and  was  suspected  of  holding  popular  opin- 
ions. It  may  be  that  the  prosecution  was  an  after- 
thought of  revenge,  and  that  Lepidus  was  to  have 
been  tried  before  a  senatorial  jury  already  determined 
to  find  him  guilty. 

Among  these  men  lay  the  fortunes  of  Rome,  when 
the  departure  of  their  chief  left  the  aristocrats  mas- 
ters of  their  own  destiny. 

During  this  time  Ca3sar  had  been  serving  his  ap- 
prenticeship as  a  soldier.  The  motley  forces  which 
Mithridates  had  commanded  had  not  all  submitted  on 
the  king's  surrender  to  Sylla.  Squadrons  of  pirates 
hung  yet  about  the  smaller  islands  in  the  JEgean. 
Lesbos  was  occupied  by  adventurers,  who  were  fight- 
ing for  their  own  hand,  and  the  praetor  Minucius 
Thermus  had  been  sent  to  clear  the  seas  and  extir- 
pate these  nests  of   brigands.     To  Thermus  Caesar 


The  Bithynian  Scandal.  103 

had  attached  himself.  The  praetor,  finding  that  his 
fleet  was  not  strong  enough  for  the  work,  found  it 
necessary  to  apply  to  Nicomedes,  the  allied  sovereign 
of  the  adjoining  kingdom  of  Bithynia,  to  supply  him 
with  a  few  additional  vessels ;  and  Ceesar,  soon  after 
his  arrival,  was  dispatched  on  this  commission  to  the 
Bithynian  court. 

Long  afterwards,  when  Roman  cultivated  society 
had  come  to  hate  Caesar,  and  any  scandal  was  wel- 
come to  them  which  would  make  him  odious,  it  was 
reported  that  on  this  occasion  he  entered  into  cer- 
tain relations  with  Nicomedes  of  a  kind  indisputably 
common  at  the  time  in  the  highest  patrician  circles. 
The  value  of  such  a  charge  in  political  controversy 
was  considerable,  for  whether  true  or  false  it  was  cer- 
tain to  be  believed ;  and  similar  accusations  were 
flung  indiscriminately,  so  Cicero  says,  at  the  reputa- 
tion of  every  eminent  person  whom  it  was  desirable 
to  stain,  if  his  personal  appearance  gave  the  story  any 
air  of  probability.^ 

The  disposition  to  believe  evil  of  men  who  have 
risen  a  few  degrees  above  their  contemporaries,  is  a 
feature  of  human  nature  as  common  as  it  is  base; 
and  when  to  envy  there  are  added  fear  and  hatred, 
malicious  anecdotes  spring  like  mushrooms  in  a  for- 
cing-pit. But  gossip  is  not  evidence,  nor  does  it  be- 
come evidence  because  it  is  in  Latin  and  has  been  re- 
peated through  many  generations.  The  strength  of 
a  chain  is  no  greater  than  the  strength  of  its  first 
link,  and  the  adhesive  character  of  calumny  proves 
only  that  the  inclination  of  average  men  to  believe 
the  worst  of  great  men  is  the  same  in  all  ages.     This 

1  •*  Sunt  enim  ista  maledicta  pervulgata  in  omnes,  quorum  in  adoles- 
eentift  forma  et  species  fuit  liberalis."  —  Oratio  pro  Marco  Ccelio. 


104  Ccesar, 

particular  accusation  against  Cassar  gains,  perliajs,  a 
certain  credibility  from  the  admission  that  it  was  the 
only  occasion  on  which  anything  of  the  kind  could 
be  alleged  against  him.  On  the  other  hand,  it  was 
unheard  of  for  near  a  quarter  of  a  century.  It  was 
produced  in  Rome  in  the  njidst  of  a  furious  political 
contest.  -  No  witnesses  were  forthcoming,  no  one  who 
had  been  at  Bithynia  at  the  time,  no  one  who  ever 
pretended  to  have  original  knowledge  of  the  truth 
of  the  story.  Caesar  himself  passed  it  by  with  dis- 
dain, or  alluded  to  it,  if  forced  upon  his  notice,  with 
contemptuous  disgust. 

The  Bithynian  mission  was  otherwise  successful. 
He  brought  the  ships  to  Thermus.  He  distinguished 
himself  personally  in  the  storming  of  Mitylene,  and 
won  the  oak  wreath,  the  Victoria  Cross  of  the  Ro- 
man army.  Still  pursuing  the  same  career,  Caesar 
next  accompanied  Servilius  Isauricus  in  a  campaign 
against  the  horde  of  pirates,  afterwards  so  famous, 
that  was  forming  itself  among  the  creeks  and  river- 
mouths  of  Cilicia.  The  advantages  which  Servilius 
obtained  over  them  were  considerable  enough  to  de- 
serve a  triumph,  but  were  barren  of  result.  The 
news  that  Sylla  was  dead  reached  the  army  while 
still  in  the  field;  and  the  danger  of  appearing  in 
Rome  being  over,  Ctesar  at  once  left  Cilicia  and  went 
back  to  his  family.  Other  causes  are  said  to  have 
contributed  to  hasten  his  return.  A  plot  had  been 
formed,  with  the  consul  Lepidus  at  its  head,  to  undo 
Sylla's  laws  and  restore  the  constitution  of  the  Grac- 
chi. Caesar  had  been  urged  by  letter  to  take  part 
in  the  movement ;  and  he  may  have  hurried  home, 
either  to  examine  the  prospects  of  success,  or  perhaps 
to   prevent   an   attempt,   which,   under  the  circum* 


Lepidus  and  Oinna.  105 

stances,  he  might  think  criminal  and  useless.  Lepi- 
dus was  not  a  wise  man,  though  he  may  have  been 
an  honest  one.  The  aristocrac}^  had  not  yet  proved 
that  they  were  incapable  of  reform.  It  might  be 
that  they  would  digest  their  lesson  after  all,  and  that 
for  a  generation  to  come  no  more  revolutions  would 
be  necessary. 

Caesar  at  all  events  declined  to  connect  himself 
•with  this  new  adventure.  He  came  to  Rome,  looked 
at  what  was  going  on,  and  refused  to  have  anything 
to  do  with  it.     The  experiment  was   tried 

.  B.  C.  77. 

without  him.  Young  Cinna,  his  brother-in-  c«sar  set. 
law,  joined  Lepidus.  Together  they  raised 
a  force  in  Etriiria,  and  marched  on  Rome.  They 
made  their  way  into  the  city,  but  were  met  in  the 
Campus  Martius  by  Pompey  and  the  other  consul, 
Catulus,  at  the  head  of  some  of  Sylla's  old  troops ; 
and  an  abortive  enterprise,  which,  if  it  had  suc- 
ceeded, would  probably  have  been  mischievous,  was 
ended  almost  as  soon  as  it  began.  The  two  leaders 
escaped.  Cinna  joined  Sertorius  in  Spain.  Lepidus 
made  his  way  to  Sardinia,  where,  in  the  next  year,  he 
died,  leaving  a  son  to  play  the  game  of  democracy 
under  more  brilliant  auspices. 

Caesar  meanwhile  felt  his  way,  as  Cicero  was  doing 
in  the  law  courts,  attacking  the  practical  abuses,  which 
the  Roman  administration  was  generating  everywhere. 
Cornehus  Dolabella  had  been  placed  by  Sylla  in  com- 
mand of  Macedonia.  His  father  had  been  a  friend 
of  Saturninus,  and  had  fallen  at  his  side.  The  son 
bad  gone  over  to  the  aristocracy,  and  for  this  reason 
was  perhaps  an  object  of  aversion  to  the  younger 
Mberals.  The  Macedonians  pursued  him,  when  his 
government  had  expired,  with  a  list  of  grievances  of 


106  '  Ccesar. 

the  usual  kind.  Young  Csesar  took  up  their  cause, 
and  prosecuted  him.  Dolabella  was  a  favorite  of  the 
Senate  ;  he  had  been  allowed  a  triumph  for  his  serv- 
ices, arid  the  aristocracy  adopted  his  cause  as  their 
own.  The  unpractised  orator  was  opposed  at  the 
trial  by  his  kinsman,  Aurelius  Cotta,  and  the  most 
celebrated  pleaders  in  Rome.  To  have  crossed  swords 
with  such  opponents  was  a  dangerous  honor  for  him 
—  success  against  them  was  not  to  be  expected,  and 
Csesar  was  not  yet  master  of  his  art.  Dolabella  was 
acquitted.  Party  feeling  had  perhaps  entered  into 
the  accusation.  Caesar  found  it  prudent  to  retire 
again  from  the  scene.  There  were  but  two  roads  to 
eminence  in  Rome,  oratory  and  service  in  the  army. 
He  had  no  prospect  of  public  employment  from  the 
present  administration,  and  the  platform  alone  was 
open  to  him.  Plain  words  with  a  plain  meaning  in 
them  no  longer  carried  weight  with  a  people  who  ex- 
pected an  orator  to  deliglit  as  well  as  instruct  them. 
The  use  of  the  tongue  had  become  a  special  branch 
of  a  statesman's  education  ;  and  Csesar,  feeling  his 
deficiency,  used  his  leisure  to  put  himself  in  training, 
and  go  to  school  at  Rhodes,  with  the  then  celebrated 
Apollonius  Molo.  He  had  recovered  his  property 
and  his  priesthood,  and  was  evidently  in  no  want  of 
money.  He  travelled  with  the  retinue  of  a  man  of 
rank,  and  on  his  way  to  Rhodes  he  fell  in  with  an  ad- 
venture which  may  be  something  more  than  legend. 
When  he  was  crossing  the  JEgean,  his  vessel  is  said  to 
Uave  been  taken  by  pirates.  They  carried  him  to 
Pharmacusa,^  an  island  off  the  Carian  coast,  which 
was  then  in  their  possession ;  and  there  he  was  de- 
tained for  six  weeks  with  tliree  of   his   attendants, 

1  Now  Fermaco 


Ccesar  and  the  Pirates.  107 

while  the  rest  of  his  servants  were  sent  to  the  near- 
est Koman  station  to  raise  his  ransom.    The 

CfiGStir  set  24 

pirates   treated    him    with   politeness.     He 
joined  in  their  sports,  played  games  with  them,  looked 
into  their  habits,  and  amused  himself  with  them  a8 
well  as  he  could,  frankly  telling  them  at  the  same 
time  that  they  would  all  be  hanged. 

The  ransom,  a  very  large  one,  about  10,0002.,  was 
brought  and  paid.  Caesar  was  set  upon  the  mainlund 
near  Miletus,  where,  without  a  moment's  delay,  he 
collected  some  armed  vessels,  returned  to  the  island, 
seized  the  whole  crew  while  they  were  dividing  their 
plunder,  and  took  them  away  to  Pergamus,  the  seat 
of  government  in  the  Asiatic  province,  where  they 
were  convicted  and  crucified.  Clemency  Avas  not  a 
Roman  characteristic.  It  was  therefore  noted,  with 
some  surprise,  that  Caesar  interceded  to  mitigate  the 
severit}^  of  the  punishment.  The  poor  wretches  were 
strangled  before  they  were  stretched  on  their  crosses, 
and  were  spared  the  prolongation  of  their  torture. 
The  pirate  business  being  disposed  of,  he  resumed  his 
journey  to  Rhodes,  and  there  he  continued  for  two 
years  practising  gesture  and  expression  under  the  tu- 
ition of  the  great  master. 

During  this  time  the  government  of  Rome  was 
making  progress  in  again  demonstrating  its  unfitness 
for  the  duties  which  were  laid  upon  it,  and  sowing 
khe  seeds  which  in  a  few  years  were  to  ripen  into  a 
harvest  so  remarkable.  Two  alternatives  only  lay 
before  the  Roman  dominion  —  either  disruption  or  the 
abolition  of  the  constitution.  If  the  aristocracy  could 
not  govern,  still  less  could  the  mob  govern.  The 
Latin  race  was  scattered  over  the  basin  of  the  Med- 
iterranean, no  longer  bound  by  any  special  ties  to 


108  Coemr. 

Rome  or  Italy,  each  man  of  it  individually  vigorous 
and  energetic,  and  bent  before  all  things  on  Jiiaking 
his  own  fortune.  If  no  tolerable  administration  was 
provided  from  home,  their  obvious  course  could  only 
be  to  identify  themselves  with  local  interests  and  na- 
tionalities, and  make  themselves  severally  indepen- 
dent, as  Sertorius  was  doing  in  Spain.  Sertorius  was 
at  last  disposed  of,  but  by  methods  promising  ill  for 
the  future.  He  beat  Metellus  till  Metellus  could  do 
no  more  against  him.  The  all-victorious  Pompey  was 
sent  at  last  to  win  victories  and  gain  nothing  by 
them.     Six  campaigns  led  to  no  result,  and 

B.  C.  78-72.  .  r     &  ' 

the  difficulty  was  only  removed  at  last  by 
treachery  and  assassination. 

A  more  extraordinary  and  more  disgraceful  phe- 
nomenon was  the  growth  of  piracy,  with  the  skirts 
of  which  Csesar  had  come  in  contact  at  Pharmacusa. 
The  Romans  had  become  masters  of  the  world,  only 
that  the  sea  from  one  end  of  their  dominions  to  the 
other  should  be  patrolled  by  organized  rovers.  For 
many  years,  as  Roman  commerce  extended,  the  Med- 
iterranean had  become  a  profitable  field  of  enterprise 
for  these  gentry.  From  everj^  country  which  they 
had  overrun  or  occupied  the  conquests  of  the  Romans 
had  let  loose  swarms  of  restless  patriots  who,  if  they 
could  not  save  the  liberties  of  their  own  countries, 
could  prey  upon  the  oppressor.  lUyrians  from  the 
Adriatic,  Greeks  from  the  islands  and  the  Asiatic 
ports,  Sj^rians,  Egyptians,  Africans,  Spaniards,  Gauls, 
and  disaffected  Italians,  trained  many  of  them  to  the 
sea  from  their  childhood,  took  to  the  water  in  their 
light  galleys  with  all  the  world  before  them.  Under 
most  circumstances  society  is  protected  against  thieves 
by  their  inability  to  combine.     But  the  pirates  of  the 


Growth  of  Piracy.  109 

Mediterranean  had  learnt  from  the  Romans  the  ad- 
vantage of  union,  and  had  drifted  into  a  vast  confed- 
eration, Cilicia  was  their  head-quarters.  Servilius 
had  checked  them  for  a  time ;  but  the  Roman  Senate 
was  too  eager  for  a  revenue,  and  the  Roman  govern- 
01*8  and  farmers  of  the  taxes  were  too  bent  upon  fill- 
ing their  private  parees,  to  allow  fleets  to  be  main- 
tained in  the  provincial  harbors  adequate  to  keep  the 
peace.  When  Servilius  retired,  the  pirates  reoccu- 
pied  their  old  haunts.  The  Cilician  forests  furnished 
them  with  ship  timber.  The  mountain  gorges  pro- 
vided inaccessible  storehouses  for  plunder.  Crete  was 
completely  in  their  hands  also ;  and  they  had  secret 
fi'iends  along  the  entire  Mediterranean  shores.  They 
grew  at  last  into  a  thousand  sail,  divided  into  squad- 
rons, under  separate  commanders.  They  were  admi- 
rably armed.  They  roved  over  the  waters  at  their 
pleasure,  attacking  islands  or  commercial  ports,  plun- 
dering temples  and  warehouses,  arresting  every  trading 
vessel  they  encountered,  till  at  last  no  Roman  could 
go  abroad  on  business,  save  during  the  winter  storms, 
when  the  sea  was  comparatively  clear.  They  flaunted 
their  sails  in  front  of  Ostia  itself ;  they  landed  in  their 
boats  at  the  villas  on  the  Italian  coast,  carrying  off 
lords  and  ladies,  and  holding  them  to  ransom.  They 
levied  black-mail  at  their  pleasure.  The  wretched 
provincials  had  paid  their  taxes  to  Rome  in  exchange 
for  promised  defence,  and  no  defence  was  provided. ^ 
The  revenue  which  ought  to  have  been  spent  on  the 
protection  of  the  Empire,  a  few  patricians  were  divid- 
ing among  themselves.     The  pirates  had  even  marts 

1  "Videbat  enim  populum  Romanum  non  locupletari  quotannis  pecuniH 
juHicsl  pr«ter  paucos :  neque  eos  quidquam  aliud  assequi  classium  nomine, 
Disi  ut,  detrimentis  accipiendis  majore  affici  turpitudine  videremur."  — 
Cicei-o,  Pro  Lege  Manilla^  23. 


110  Ccesar. 

ill  different  islands,  where  their  prisoners  were  sold 
to  the  slave-dealers;  and  for  fifteen  years  nothing 
was  done  or  even  attempted  to  put  an  end  to  so  pre- 
posterous an  enormity.  The  ease  with  which  these 
buccaneers  of  the  Old  World  were  eventually  sup- 
pressed proved  conclusively  that  they  existed  by  con- 
nivance. It  was  discovered  at  last  that  large  sums 
had  been  sent  regularly  from  Crete  to  some  of  tho 
most  distinguished  members  of  the  aristocracy.  The 
Senate  was  again  the  same  body  which  it  was  found 
by  Jugurtha,  and  the  present  generation  were  hap- 
pier than  their  fathers  in  that  larger  and  richer  fields 
were  now  open  to  their  operation. 

While  the  pirates  were  at  work  on  the  extremities, 
the  senators  in  the  provinces  were  working  systemat- 
ically, squeezing  the  people  as  one  might  squeeze  a 
sponge  of  all  the  wealth  that  could  be  drained  out  of 
them.  After  the  failure  of  Lepidus,  the  elections  in 
Rome  were  wholly  in  the  Senate's  hands.  Such  in- 
dependence as  had  not  been  crushed  was  corrupted. 
The  aristocracy  divided  the  consulships,  prsetorships, 
and  quaestorships  among  themselves,  and  after  the 
year  of  ofiice  the  provincial  prizes  were  then  distrib- 
uted. Of  the  nature  of  their  government  a  picture 
has  been  left  by  Cicero,  himself  one  of  the  senatorial 
party,  and  certainly  not  to  be  suspected  of  having  rep- 
resented it  as  worse  than  it  was  in  the  famous  prose- 
cution of  Verres.  There  is  nothing  to  show  that 
Verres  was  worse  than  the  rest  of  his  order.  Piso, 
Gabinius,  and  many  others  equalled,  or  perhaps  ex- 
celled, him  in  villainy.  But  historical  fate  required  a 
victim,  and  the  unfortunate  wretch  has  been  selected 
out  of  the  crowd  individually  to  illustrate  his  class. 

By  family  he  was  connected  with  Sylla.    His  father 


Provincial  Administration,  111 

was  noted  as  an  election  manager  at  the  Cotnitia. 
TJie  son  had  been  attached  to  Carbo  when  the  demo- 
crats were  in  power,  but  he  had  deserted  them  on 
Sylla's  return.  He  had  made  himself  useful  in  the 
proscriptions,  and  had  scraped  together  a  considerable 
fortune.  He  was  employed  afterwards  in  Greece  and 
Asia,  where  he  distinguished  himself  by  fresh  rapac- 
ity, and  by  the  gross  brutality  with  which  he  abused 
an  innocent  lady.  With  the  wealth  which  he  had 
extorted  or  stolen  he  bought  his  way  into  the  praetor- 
ship,  probably  with  his  father's  help  ;  he  then  became 
a  senator,  and  was  sent  to  govern  Sicily  —  a  place 
which  had  already  suffered,  so  the  Senate  said,  from 
the  malpractices  of  Lepidus,  and  needing,  therefore, 
to  be  generously  dealt  with. 

Yerres  held  his  province  for  three  years.  He  was 
supreme  judge  in  all  civil  and  criminal  cases.  He 
negotiated  with  the  parties  to  every  suit  which  was 
brought  before  him,  and  then  sold  his  decisions.  He 
confiscated  estates  on  fictitious  accusations.  The  isl- 
and was  rich  in  works  of  art.  Verres  had  a  taste  for 
such  things,  and  seized  without  scruple  the  finest  pro- 
ductions of  Praxiteles  or  Zeuxis.  If  those  who  were 
wronged  dared  to  complain,  they  were  sent  to  forced 
labor  at  the  quarries,  or,  as  dead  men  tell  no  tales, 
wei'e  put  out  of  the  world.  He  had  an  understand- 
ing with  the  pirates,  which  throws  light  upon  the 
secret  of  their  impunity.  A  shipful  of  them  were 
brought  into  -Messina  as  prisoners,  and  were  sentenced 
to  be  executed.  A  handsome  bribe  was  paid  to  Ver- 
res, and  a  number  of  Sicilians  whom  he  wished  out 
of  the  way  were  brought  out,  veiled  and  gagged, 
that  they  might  not  be  recognized,  and  were  hanged 
as  the  pirates'  substitutes.     By  these  methods  Verrea 


112  CcBsar, 

was  accused  of  having  gathered  out  of  Sicily  three 
quarters  of  a  million  of  our  money.  Two  thirds  he 
calculated  on  having  to  spend  in  corrupting  the  con- 
Buls,  and  the  court  before  which  he  might  be  prose- 
cuted. The  rest  he  would  be  able  to  save,  and  with 
the  help  of  it  to  follow  his  career  of  greatness  through 
the  highest  offices  of  State.  Thus  he  had  gone  on 
upon  his  way,  secure,  as  he  supposed,  of  impunity. 
One  of  the  consuls  for  the  year  and  the  consuls  for 
the  year  which  was  to  come  next  were  pledged  to 
support  him.  The  judges  would  be  exclusively  sena- 
tors, each  of  whom  might  require  assistance  in  a  simi- 
lar situation.  The  chance  of  justice  on  these  occa- 
sions was  so  desperate  that  the  provincials  preferred 
usually  to  bear  their  wrongs  in  silence  rather  than 
expose  themselves  to  expense  and  danger  for  almost 
certain  failure.  But,  as  Cicero  said,  the  whole  world 
inside  the  ocean  was  ringing  with  the  infamy  of  the 
Roman  senatorial  tribunals. 

Cicero,  whose  honest  wish  was  to  save  the  Senate 
from  itself,  determined  to  make  use  of  Yerres'  con- 
duct to  shame  the  courts  into  honesty.  Every  diffi- 
culty was  thrown  in  his  way.  He  went  in  person  to 
Sicily  to  procure  evidence.  He  was  browbeaten  and 
threatened  with  violence.  The  witnesses  were  in- 
timidated, and  in  some  instances  were  murdered. 
The  technical  ingenuities  of  Roman  law  were  ex- 
hausted to  shield  the  culprit.  The  accident  that  the 
second  consul  had  a  conscience  alone  enabled  Cicero 
to  force  the  criminal  to  the  bar.  But  the  picture 
which  Cicero  drew  and  laid  before  the  people,  proved 
as  it  was  to  every  detail,  and  admitting  of  no  an- 
swer save  that  other  governors  had  been  equally 
iniquitous  and  had   escaped   unpunished,  created  a 


Rome  under  Sylla's  Constitution,  113 

Btorra  which  the  Senate  dared  not  encounter.  Verres 
dropped  his  defence,  and  fled,  and  part  of  his  spoils 
was  recovered.  There  was  no  shame  in  the  aristoc- 
racy to  prevent  them  from  committing  crimes :  there 
was  enough  to  make  them  abandon  a  comrade  who 
was  so  unfortunate  as  to  be  detected  and  brought  to 
justice. 

This  was  the  state  of  the  Roman  dominion  under 
the  constitution  as  reformed  by  Sylla  :  the  Spanish 
Peninsula  recovered  by  murder  to  temporary  submis- 
sion ;  the  sea  abandoned  to  buccaneers  ;  decent  indus- 
trious people  in  the  provinces  given  over  to  have  their 
fortunes  stolen  from  them,  their  daughters  dishon- 
ored, and  themselves  beaten  or  killed  if  they  com- 
plained, by  a  set  of  wolves  calling  themselves  Roman 
senators  —  and  these  scenes  not  localized  to  any  one 
unhappy  district,  but  extending  through  the  entire 
civilized  part  of  mankind.  There  was  no  hope  for 
these  unhappy  people,  for  they  were  under  the  tyr- 
anny of  a  dead  hand.  A  bad  king  is  like  a  bad  sea- 
son. The  next  may  bring  improvement,  or,  if  his 
rule  is  wholly  intolerable,  he  can  be  deposed.  Under 
a  bad  constitution  no  such  change  is  possible.  It  can 
be  ended  only  by  a  revolution.  Republican  Rome 
had  become  an  Imperial  State  — she  had  taken  upon 
herself  the  guardianship  of  every  country  in  the 
world  where  the  human  race  was  industrious  and  pros- 
perous, and  she  was  discharging  her  great  trust  by 
sacrificing  them  to  the  luxury  and  ambition  of  a  few 
hundred  scandalous  politicians. 

The  nature  of  man  is  so  constructed  that  a  con- 
Btitution  so  administered  must  collapse.  It  generates 
faction  within,  it  invites  enemies  from  without. 
While  Sertorius  was  defying  the  Senate  in  Spain,  and 


114  .      Ccesar, 

the  pirates  were  buying  its  connivance  in  the  Med- 
iterranean, Mithridate^  started  into  life  again  in  Pon- 
tus.  Sylla  had  beaten  him  into  submission  ;  but 
Sylla  was  gone,  and  no  one  was  left  to  take  Sylla's 
place.  The  watchful  barbarian  had  his  correspond- 
ents in  Rome,  and  knew  everything  that  was  pass- 
ing there.  He  saw  that  he  had  httle  to  fear  by  try- 
ing the  issue  with  the  Romans  once  more.  He  made 
himself  master  of  Armenia.  In  the  corsair  fleet  he 
had  an  ally  ready  made.  The  Roman  province  in 
Asia  Minor,  driven  to  despair  by  the  villainy  of  its 
governors,  was  ripe  for  revolt.  Mithridates  rose,  and 
but  for  the  young  Caesar  would  a  second  time  have 
driven  the  Romans  out  of  Asia.  Csesar,  in  the  midst 
of  his  rhetorical  studies  at  Rhodes,  heard  the  mut- 
terings  of  the  coming  storm.  Deserting  Apollonius's 
lecture-room,  he  crossed  over  to  the  continent,  raised 
a  corps  of  volunteers,  and  held  Caria  to  its  allegiance; 
but  Mithridates  possessed  himself  easily  of  the  inte- 
rior kingdoms,  and  of  the  whole  valley  of  the  Eu- 
phrates to  the  Persian  Gulf.  The  Black  Sea  was  again 
covered  with  his  ships.  He  defeated  Cotta  in  a  na- 
val battle,  drove  him  through  the  Bosphorus,  and  de- 
stroyed the  Roman  squadron.  The  Senate  exerted  it- 
self at  last.  Lucullus,  Sylla's  friend,  the  only  mod- 
erately able  man  that  the  aristocracy  had 
B.C.  74.  -^  •^ 

among  them,  was  sent   to  encounter  him. 

Lucullus  had  been  trained  in  a  good  school,  and  the 
superiority  of  the  drilled  Roman  legions  when  toler- 
ably led  again  easily  asserted  itself.  Mithridates  was 
forced  back  into  the  Armenian  hills.  The  Black  Sea 
was  swept  clear,  and  eight  thousand  of  the  buccaneers 
were  killed  at  Sinope.  Lucullus  pursued  the  retreat- 
mg  prince  across  the  Euphrates,  won  victories,  took 


LucuUus.  115 

cities  and  pillaged  them.  He  reached  Lake  Van,  he 
marched  round  Mount  Ararat,  and  advanced  to  Ar- 
taxata.  But  Asia  was  a  scene  of  dangerous  tempta- 
tion for  a  Roman  commander.  Cicero,  though  lie 
did  not  name  Lucullus,  was  transparently  alluding  to 
him  when  he  told  the  assembly  in  the  Forum  that 
Rome  had  made  herself  abhorred  throughout  the 
world  by  the  violence  and  avarice  of  her  generals-. 
No  temple  had  been  so  sacred,  no  city  so  venerable, 
no  houses  so  well  protected,  as  to  be  secure  from  their 
voracity.  Occasions  of  war  had  been  caught  at  with 
rich  communities,  where  plunder  was  the  only  object. 
The  proconsuls  could  win  battles,  but  they  could  not 
keep  their  hands  from  off  the  treasures  of  their  allies 
and  subjects.^ 

Lucullus  was  splendid  in  his  rapacity,  and  amidst 
his  victories  he  had  amassed  the  largest  fortune 
which  had  yet  belonged  to  patrician  or  commoner, 
except  Crassus.  Nothing  came  amiss  to  him.  He 
had  sold  the  commissions  in  his  army.  He  had  taken 
money  out  of  the  treasury  for  the  expenses  of  the 
campaign.  Part  he  had  spent  in  bribing  the  admin- 
istration to  prolong  his  command  beyond  the  usual 
time ;  the  rest  he  had  left  in  the  city  to  accumulate 
for  himself  at  interest.^     He  lived  on  the  plunder  of 

1  "Difficile  est  dictu,  Quirites,  quanto  in  odio  simns  apud  exteras  na- 
tiones,  propter  eoruni,  quos  ad  eas  per  hos  annos  cum  imperio  misimus, 
injurias  ac  libidines.  Quod  enim  fanum  putatis  in  illis  terris  nostris  mag- 
istratibus  religiosum,  quam  civitatem  sanctam,  quam  domum  satis  clau- 
sam  ac  munitam  fuisse  V     Urbes  jam  locupletes  ac  copiosse  requiruntur, 

quibus  causa  belli  propter  diripiendi  cupiditatem  inferatur Quare 

etiamsi  quem  habetis,  qui  collatis  signis  exercitus  regios  superare  posse  vi- 
deatur,  taraen,  nisi  erit  idem,  qui  se  a  pecuniis  sociorum,  qui  ab  eorum 
conjugibus  ac  liberis,  qui  ab  ornamentis  fanorum  atque  oppidorum,  qui 
ab  auro  gazaque  regia  manus,  oculo!?,  animum  cohibere  possit,  non  erit 
idoneus,  qui  ad  bellum  Asiaticura  regiumque  mittatur."  —  Pro  Lege  Ma- 
niM,  22,  23. 

*  "  Quem  possumus  iraperatorem  aliquo  in  numero  putare,  cujus  in  eX' 


11^  Ccesar, 

friend  and  foe  ;  and  the  defeat  of  Mithridates  waa 
never  more  than  a  second  object  to  him.  The  one 
stead)^  purpose  in  which  he  never  varied  was  to  pile 
up  gold  and  jewels. 

An  army  so  organized  and  so  employed  soon  loses 
efficiency  and  coherence.  The  legions,  perhaps  con- 
sidering that  they  were  not  allowed  a  fair  share  of 
the  spoil,  mutinied.  The  disaffection  was  headed  by 
young  Publius  Clodius,  whose  sister  Lucullus  had 
married.  The  campaign  which  had  opened  brilliantly 
ended  ignominiously.  The  Romans  had  to  fall  back 
behind  Pontus,  closely  pursued  by  Mithridates.  Lu- 
cullus stood  on  the  defensive  till  he  was  recalled,  and 
he  then  returned  to  Rome  to  lounge  away  the  re- 
mainder of  his  days  in  voluptuous  magnificence. 

While  Lucullus  was  making  his  fortune  in  the 
East,  a  spurt  of  insurrectionary  fire  had  broken  out 
in  Italy.  The  Agrarian  laws  and  Sylla's  proscrip- 
tions and  confiscations  had  restored  the  numbers  of 
the  small  proprietors,  but  the  statesmen  who  had 
been  so  eager  for  their  reinstatement  were  fighting 
against  tendencies  too  strong  for  them.  Life  on  the 
farm,  like  life  in  the  city,  was  growing  yearly  more 
extravagant.!  The  small  peasants  fell  into  debt. 
Sylla's  soldiers  were  expensive,  and  became  embar- 

ercitu  veneant  centuriatus  atque  venierint  ?  Quid  hunc  hominem  magnum 
aut  amplum  de  republica  cogitare,  qui  pecuniam  ex  acrario  depi-omtani  ad 
bellum  administrandum,  aut  propter  cupiditatem  provincije  magistratibus 
diviserit  aut  propter  avaritiam  Roma;  in  quajstu  reliquerit  ?  Vestra  ad- 
murmuratio  facit,  Quirites,  ut  agnoscere  videamini  qui  hsec  fecerint:  ego 
autem  nerainem  nomino."  —  Pro  Lege  Manilid,  13. 

1  Varro  mentions  curious  instances  of  the  change  in  country  manners. 
He  makes  an  old  man  say  that  when  he  was  a  boy  a  farmer's  wife  used 
to  be  conteit  with  a  jaunt  in  a  cart  once  or  twice  a  year,  the  farmer  not 
taking  out  the  covered  wagon  (the  more  luxurious  vehicle)  at  all  unless 
he  plefc-ied.  The  farmer  used  to  shave  only  once  a  week,  etc.  —  M.  Ter. 
Varronis  Reliqulce,  nd.  Alexander  Riese,  pp.  139,  140. 


The  Gladiators,  117 

rassed.  Thus  the  small  properties  artificially  rees- 
tablished were  falling  rapidly  again  into  the  market. 
The  great  land-owners  bought  them  up,  and  Italy  was 
once  more  lapsing  to  territorial  magnates  cultivating 
their  estates  by  slaves. 

Vast  gangs  of  slave  laborers  were  thus  still  dis- 
persed over  the  Peninsula,  while  others  in  large  num- 
bers were  purchased  and  trained  for  the  amusement 
of  the  metropolis.  Society  in  Rome,  enervated  as  it 
was  by  vicious  pleasures,  craved  continually  for  new 
excitements.  Sensuality  is  a  near  relation  of  cruelty  ; 
and  the  more  savage  the  entertainments,  the  more 
delightful  they  were  to  the  curled  and  scented  patri- 
cians who  had  lost  the  taste  for  finer  enjoyments. 
Combats  of  wild  beasts  were  at  first  sufficient  for 
them,  but  to  see  men  kill  each  other  gave  a  keener 
delight ;  and  out  of  the  thousands  of  youths  who  were 
sent  over  annually  by  the  provincial  governors,  or 
were  purchased  from  the  pirates  by  the  slave-dealers, 
the  most  promising  were  selected  for  the  arena. 
Each  great  noble  had  his  training  establishment  of 
gladiators,  and  was  as  vain  of  their  prowess  as  of 
his  race-horses.  The  schools  of  Capua  were  the  most 
celebrated ;  and  nothing  so  recommended  a  candidate 
for  the  consulship  to  the  electors  as  the  production  of 
a  few  pairs  of  Capuan  swordsmen  in  the  circus. 

These  young  men  had  hitherto  performed  their 
duties  with  more  submissiveness  than  might  have  been 
expected,  and  had  slaughtered  one  another  in  the 
most  approved  methods.  But  the  horse  knows  by  the 
hand  on  his  rein  whether  he  has  a  fool  for  his  rider. 
The  gladiators  in  the  schools  and  the  slaves  on  the 
plantations  could  not  be  kept  wholly  ignorant  of  the 
character  of  their  rulers.     They  were  aware  that  the 


118  Coesar, 

seas  were  held  by  their  friends,  the  pirates,  and  that 
their  masters  were  again  being  beaten  out  of  Asia, 
from  which  many  of  themselves  had  been  carried  off. 
They  began  to  ask  themselves  why  men  who  could 
use  their  swords  should  be  slaves  when  their  com- 
rades and  kindred  were  up  and  fighting  for  freedom. 
They  found  a  leader  in  a  young  Thracian  robber 
chief,  named  Sparfcacus,  who  was  destined  for  the 
amphitheatre,  and  who  preferred  meeting  his  masters 
in  the  field  to  killing  his  friends  to  make  a  Roman 
holiday.  Spartacus,  with  two  hundred  of  his  com- 
panions, burst  out  from  the  Capuan  "  stable,"  seized 
their  arms,  and  made  their  way  into  the  crater  of 
Vesuvius,  which  was  then,  after  the  long  sleep  of  the 
volcano,  a  dense  jungle  of  wild  vines.  The  slaves 
from  the  adjoining  plantations  deserted  and  joined 
them.  The  fire  spread,  Spartacus  proclaimed  uni- 
versal emancipation,  and  in  a  few  weeks  was  at  the 
head  of  an  army  with  which  he  overran  Italy  to  the 
foot  of  the  Alps,  defeated  consuls  and  prse- 
^■^"  '  '  ■  tors,  captured  the  eagles  of  the  legions, 
wasted  the  farms  of  the  noble  lords,  and  for  two 
years  held  his  ground  against  all  that  Rome  could  do. 
Of  all  the  illustrations  of  the  Senate's  incapacity, 
the  slave  insurrection  was  perhaps  the  worst.  It  was 
put  down  at  last  after  desperate  exertions  by  Crassus 
and  Pompej^  Spartacus  was  killed,  and  six  thousand 
of  his  followers  were  impaled  at  various  points  on  the 
sides  of  the  high  roads,  that  the  slaves  might  have 
before  their  eyes  examples  of  the  effect  of  disobe- 
dience. The  immediate  peril  was  over ;  but  another 
symptom  had  appeared  of  the  social  disease  which 
would  soon  end  in  death,  unless  some  remedy  could 
be  found.     The  nation  was  still  strong.     There  was 


A  Political  Dilemma,  119 

power  and  worth  in  the  undegenerate  Italian  race, 
which  needed  only  to  be  organized  and  ruled.  But 
what  remedy  was  possible  ?  The  practical  choice  of 
politicians  lay  between  the  Senate  and  the  democ- 
racy. Both  were  alike  bloody  and  unscrupulous; 
and  the  rule  of  the  Senate  meant  corruption  and  im- 
becility, and  the  rule  of  the  democracy  meant  ao- 
archy. 


CHAPTER  X. 

C^SAE,  having  done  his  small  piece  of  indepen- 
dent service  in  Caria,  and  having  finished  his  course 
with  Appoloniiis,  now  came  again  to  Rome,  and  re- 
entered practical  life.  He  lived  with  his  wife  and  his 
mother  Aurelia  in  a  modest  house,  attracting  no  par- 
ticular notice.  But  his  defiance  of  Sylla,  his  prosecu- 
tion of  Dolabella,  and  his  known  political  sympathies, 
made  him  early  a  favorite  with  the  people.  The 
growing  disorders  at  home  and  abroad,  with  the  ex- 
posures on  the  trial  of  Verres,  were  weakening  daily 
the- influence  of  the  Senate.  Caesar  was  elected  mil- 
itary tribune  as  a  reward  for  his  services  in  Asia,  and 
he  assisted  in  recovering  part  of  the  privileges  so  dear 
to  the  citizens  which  Sylla  had  taken  from  the  trib- 
unes of  the  people.  They  were  again  enabled  to  call 
the  assembly  together,  and  though  they  were  still  un- 
able to  propose  laws  without  the  Senate's  sanction, 
yet  they  regained  the  privilege  of  consulting  directly 
with  the  nation  on  public  affairs.  Caesar  now  spoke 
well  enough  to  command  the  admiration  of  even  Cic- 
ero —  without  ornament,  but  directly  to  the  purpose. 
Among  the  first  uses  to  which  he  addressed  his  influ- 
ence was  to  obtain  the  pardon  of  his  brother-in-law, 
the  younger  Cinna,  who  had  been  exiled  since  the 
failure  of  the  attempt  of  Lepidus.  In  B.  c.  68,  being 
then  thirty-two,  he  gained  his  first  step  on  the  ladder 
Df  high  office.  He  was  made  qusestor,  which  gave 
him  a  place  in  the  Senate. 


Comiection  with  Pompey.  121 

Soon  after  his  election,  his  aunt  Julia,  the  widow 
of  Marius,  died.  It  was  usual  on  the  death  of  emi- 
nent persons  for  a  near  relation  to  make  an  oration  at 
the  funeral.  Csesar  spoke  on  this  occasion.  It  was 
observed  that  he  dwelt  with  some  pride  on  the  lady's 
ancestry,  descending  on  one  side  from  the  gods,  on 
another  from  the  kings  of  Rome.  More  noticeably 
he  introduced  into  the  burial  procession  tlie  insignia 
and  images  of  Marius  himself,  whose  name  for  some 
years  it  had  been  unsafe  to  mention.^ 

Pompey,  after  Sertorius's  death,  had  pacified  Spain. 
He  had  assisted  Crassus  in  extinguishing  Spartacus. 
The  Senate  had  employed  him,  but  had  never  liked 
him  or  trusted  him.  The  Senate,  however,  was  no 
longer  omnipotent,  and  in  the  year  70  he  and  Crassus 
had  been  consuls.  Pompey  was  no  politician,  but  he 
was  honorable  and  straightforward.  Like  every  true 
Roman,  he  was  awake  to  the  dangers  and  disgrace  of 
the  existing  maladministration,  and  he  and  Caesar  be- 
gan to  know  each  other,  and  to  find  their  interest  in 
working  together.  Pompey  was  the  elder  of  the  two 
by  six  years.  He  was  already  a  great  man,  covered 
with  distinctions,  and  perhaps  he  supposed  that  he 
was  finding  in  Csesar  a  useful  subordinate.  Caesar 
naturally  liked  Pompey,  as  a  really  distinguished  sol- 
dier and  an  upright,  disinterested  man.  Tliey  became 
connected  by  marriage.  Cornelia  dying,  Csesar  took 
for  his  second  wife  Pompey's  cousin,  Pompeia  ;  and, 
no  doubt  at  Pompey's  instance,  he  was  sent  into 
Spain  to  complete  Pompey's  work  and  settle  the 
finances  of  that  distracted  country.  His  reputation 
as  belonging  to  the  party  of  Marius  and  Sertorius  se- 

1  Thi  name  of  Marius,  it  is  to  be  observed,  remained  so  popular  in  Rome 
that  Cicero  after  this  always  spoke  of  him  with  respect. 


122  Cmar, 

cured  him  the  confidence  of  Sertorius's  friends.  He 
accomplished  his  mission  completely  and  easily.  On 
his  way  back  he  passed  through  Northern  Italy,  and 
took  occasion  to  say  there  that  he  considered  the  time 
to  have  come  for  the  franchise,  which  now  stopped 
at  the  Po,  to  be  extended  to  the  foot  of  the  Alps. 

The  consulship  of  Pompey  and  Crassus  had  brought 
many  changes  with  it,  all  tending  in  the  same  direc- 
tion. The  tribunes  were  restored  to  their  old  func- 
tions, the  censorship  was  reestablished,  and  the  Sen- 
ate was  at  once  weeded  of  many  of  its  disreputable 
members.  Cicero,  conservative  as  he  was,  had  looked 
upon  these  measures  if  not  approvingly,  yet  without 
active  opposition.  To  another  change  he  had  himself 
contributed  by  his  speeches  on  the  Verres  prosecution. 
The  exclusive  judicial  powers  which  the  Senate  had 
abused  so  scandalously  were  again  taken  from  them. 
The  courts  of  the  Equites  were  remembered  in  con- 
trast, arid  a  law  was  passed  that  for  the  future  the 
courts  were  to  be  composed  two  thirds  of  knights  and 
one  third  only  of  senators.  Cicero's  hope  of  resisting 
democracy  lay  in  the  fusion  of  the  great  commoners 
with  the  Senate.  It  was  no  longer  possible  for  the 
aristocracy  to  rule  alone.  The  few  Equites  who, 
since  Sylla's  time,  had  made  their  way  into  the  Sen- 
ate had  yielded  to  patrician  ascendency.  Cicero 
aimed  at  a  reunion  of  the  orders;  and  the  consulship 
of  Crassus,  little  as  Cicero  liked  Crassus  personall}^, 
was  a  sign  of  a  growing  tendency  in  this  direction. 
At  all  costs  the  knights  must  be  prevented  from  iden- 
tifying themselves  with  the  democrats,  and  therefore 
all  possible  compliments  and  all  possible  concessions 
to  their  interests  were  made  to  them. 

They  recovered  their  position  in  the  law  courts 


The  Pirates.  123 

and,  which  was  of  more  importance  to  them,  the  sys- 
tem of  farming  the  taxes,  in  which  so  many  of  them 
had  made  their  fortunes,  and  which  Sylla  had  abol- 
ished, was  once  again  reverted  to.  It  was  not  a  good 
system,  but  it  was  better  than  a  state  of  things  in 
which  little  of  the  revenue  had  reached  the  public 
treasury  at  all,  but  had  been  intercepted  and  par- 
celled out  among  the  oligarchy. 

With  recovered  vitality  a  keener  apprehension  be- 
gan to  be  felt  of  the  pirate  scandal.  The  buccaneers, 
encouraged  by  the  Senate's  connivance,  were  more 
daring  than  ever.  They  had  become  a  sea  community, 
led  by  high-born  adventurers,  who  maintained  out  of 
their  plunder  a  show  of  wild  magnificence.  The 
oars  of  the  galleys  of  their  commanders  were  plated 
with  silver;  their  cabins  were  hung  with  gorgeous 
tapestry.  They  had  bands  of  music  to  play  at  their 
triumphs.  They  had  a  religion  of  their  own,  an  ori- 
ental medley  called  the  Mysteries  of  Mithras.  They 
had  captured  and  pillaged  four  hundred  considerable 
towns,  and  had  spoiled  the  temples  of  the  Grecian 
gods.  They  had  maintained  and  extended  their 
depots  where  they  disposed  of  their  prisoners  to  the 
slave-dealers.  Roman  citizens  who  could  not  ransom 
themselves,  and  could  not  conveniently  be  sold,  were 
informed  that  they  might  go  where  they  pleased  ; 
they  were  led  to  a  plank  projecting  over  some  ves- 
sel's side,  and  were  bidden  depart  —  into  the  sea. 
Not  contented  with  insulting  Ostia  by  their  presence 
outside,  they  had  ventured  into  the  harbor  itself,  and 
had  burnt  the  ships  there.  They  held  complete  pos- 
session of  the  Italian  waters.  Rome,  depending  on 
Sicily,  and  Sardinia,  and  Africa,  for  her  supplies  of 
corn,  was  starving  for  want  of  food  ;  and  the  foreign 


124  Ccesar. 

trade  on  whicli  so  many  of  the  middle  classes  were 
engaged  was  totally  destroyed.  The  return  of  the 
commoners  to  power  was  a  signal  for  an  active  move- 
ment to  put  an  end  to  the  disgrace.  No  one  ques- 
tioned that  it  could  be  done  if  there  was  a  will  to 
do  it.  But  the  work  could  be  accomplished  only 
by  persons  who  would  be  proof  against  corruption. 
There  was  but  one  man  in  high  position  who  could 
be  trusted,  and  that  was  Pompey.  The  general  to 
be  selected  must  have  unrestricted  and  therefore  un- 
constitutional authority.  But  Pompey  was  at  once 
capable  and  honest.     Pompey  could  not  be 

B-  C  67.  x^    -^ 

bribed  by  the  pirates,  and  Pompey  could 
be  depended  on  not  to  abuse  his  opportunities  to  the 
prejudice  of  the  Commonwealth. 

The  natural  course,  therefore,  would  have  been  to 
declare  Pompey  Dictator;  but  Sylla  had  made  the 
name  unpopular  ;  the  right  to  appoint  a  Dictator  lay 
with  the  Senate,  with  whom  Pompey  had  never  been 
a  favorite,  and  the  aristocracy  had  disliked  and  feared 
him  more  than  ever  since  his  consulship.  From  that 
quarter  no  help  was  to  be  looked  for,  and  a  method 
was  devised  to  give  him  the  reality  of  power  without 
the  title.  Unity  of  command  was  the  one  essential 
—  command  untrammelled  by  orders  from  commit- 
tees of  weak  and  treacherous  noblemen,  who  cared 
only  for  the  interest  of  their  class.  The  established 
forms  were  scrupulously  observed,  and  the  plan  de- 
signed was  brought  forward  first,  according  to  rule, 
in  the  Senate.  A  tribune,  Aulus  Gabinius,  intro- 
duced a  proposition  there  that  one  person  of  consular 
rank  should  have  absolute  jurisdiction,  during  three 
years,  over  the  whole  Mediterranean,  and  over  all 
Roman  territory  for  fifty  miles  inland  from  the  coast 


The  Crobinian  Law.  125 

that  the  money  in  the  treasury  should  be  at  his  dis- 
position ;  that  he  should  have  power  to  raise  500 
ships  of  war  and  to  collect  and  organize  130,000  men. 
No  such  command  for  such  a  time  had  ever  been  com- 
mitted to  any  one  man  since  the  abolition  of  the  mon- 
archy. It  was  equivalent  to  a  suspension  of  the  Sen- 
ate itself,  and  of  all  constitutional  government.  The 
proposal  was  received  with  a  burst  of  fury.  Every 
one  knew  that  the  person  intended  was  Pompey. 
The  decorum  of  the  old  days  was  forgotten.  The 
noble  lords  started  from  their  seats,  flew  at  Gabinius, 
and  almost  strangled  him  :  but  he  had  friends  out- 
side the  house  ready  to  defend  their  champion ;  the 
country  people  had  flocked  in  for  the  occasion  ;  the 
city  was  thronged  with  multitudes  for  such  as  had 
not  been  seen  there  since  the  days  of  the  Gracchi. 
The  tribune  freed  himself  from  the  hands  that  were 
at  his  throat ;  he  rushed  out  into  the  Forum,  closely 
pursued  by  the  consul  Piso,  who  would  have  been 
torn  in  pieces  in  turn,  had  not  Gabinius  interposed  to 
save  him.  Senate  or  no  Senate,  it  was  decided  that 
Gabinius's  proposition  should  be  submitted  to  the  as- 
sembly, and  the  aristocrats  were  driven  to  their  old 
remedy  of  bribing  other  members  of  the  college  of 
tribunes  to  interfere.  Two  renegades  were  thus  se- 
cured :  and  when  the  voting  day  came,  Trebellius, 
who  was  one  of  them,  put  in  a  veto ;  the  other,  Ros- 
cius,  said  that  the  power  intended  for  Pompey  was 
too  considerable  to  be  trusted  to  a  single  person,  and 
proposed  two  commanders  instead  of  one.  The  mob 
was  packed  so  thick  that  the  house-tops  were  cov- 
ered. A  yell  rose  from  tens  of  thousands  of  throats 
tto  piercing  that  it  was  said  a  crow  flying  over  the 
Forum  dropped  dead  at  the  sound  of  it.     The  old 


126  Coesar, 

patrician  Catulus  tried  to  speak,  but  the  people  would 
not  hear  him.  The  vote  passed  by  acclamation,  and 
Pompey  was  for  three  years  sovereign  of  the  Ro- 
man world. 

It  now  appeared  how  strong  the  Romans  were 
w|ien  a  fair  chance  was  allowed  them.  Pompey  had 
no  extraordinary  talents,  but  not  in  three  years,  but 
in  three  months,  the  pirates  were  extinguished.  He 
divided  the  Mediterranean  into  thirteen  districts,  and 
allotted  a  squadron  to  each,  under  officers  on  whom 
he  could  thoroughly  rely.  Ships  and  seamen  were 
found  in  abundance  lying  idle  from  the  suspension  of 
trade.  In  forty  days  he  had  cleared  the  seas  between 
Gibraltar  and  Italy.  He  had  captured  entire  corsair 
fleets,  and  had  sent  the  rest  flying  into  the  Cilician 
creeks.  There,  in  defence  of  their  plunder  and  their 
families,  they  fought  one  desperate  engagement,  and 
when  defeated,  they  surrendered  without  a  further 
blow.  Of  real  strength  they  had  possessed  none 
from' the  first.  They  had  subsisted  only  through  the 
guilty  complicity  of  the  Roman  authorities,  and  they 
fell  at  the  first  stroke  which  was  aimed  at  them  in 
earnest.  Thirteen  hundred  pirate  ships  were  burnt. 
Their  docks  and  arsenals  were  destroyed,  and  their 
fortresses  were  razed.  Twenty-two  thousand  prison- 
ers fell  into  the  hands  of  Pompey.  To  the  astonish- 
ment of  mankind,  Pompey  neither  impaled  them,  as 
the  Senate  had  impaled  the  followers  of  Spartacus, 
nor  even  sold  them  for  slaves.  He  was  conteiited  to 
scatter  them  among  inland  colonies,  where  they  could 
no  longer  be  dangerous. 

The  suppression  of  the  buccaneers  was  really  a 
brilliant  piece  of  work,  and  the  ease  with  which  it 
was  accomplished  brought  fresh  disgrace  on  the  Sen- 


The  Manilian  Law.  127 

ate  and  fresh  glory  on  the  hero  of  the  houi  Cicero, 
with  his  thoughts  fixed  on  saving  the  constitution, 
considered  that  Porapey  might  be  the  man  to  save  it; 
or,  at  all  events,  that  it  would  be  unsafe  to  leave  him 
to  the  democrats  who  had  given  him  power  and  were 
triumphing  in  his  success.  On  political  groun'ds 
Cicero  thought  that  Pompey  ought  to  be  recognized 
by  the  moderate  party  which  he  intended  to  form  ; 
und  a  person  like  himself  who  hoped  to  rise  by  the 
popular  votes  could  not  otherwise  afford  to  seem  cold 
amidst  the  universal  enthusiasm.  The  pirates  were 
abolished.  Mithridates  was  still  undisposed  of.  Lu- 
cuUus,  the  hope  of  the  aristocracy,  was  lying  helpless 
within  the  Roman  frontier,  with  a  disorganized  and 
mutinous  army.  His  victories  were  forgotten.  He 
was  regarded  as  the  impersonation  of  every  fault 
which  had  made  the  rule  of  the  Senate  so  hateful. 
Pompey,  the  people's  general,  after  a  splendid  suc- 
cess, had  come  home  with  clean  hands ;  Lucullus  had 
sacrificed  his  country  to  his  avarice.  The  contrast 
set  off  his  failures  in  colors  perhaps  darker  than  really 
belonged  to  them,  and  the  cry  naturally  rose  that 
Lucullus  must  be  called  back,  and  the  all-victorious 
Pompey  must  be  sent  for  the  reconquest  of  Asia. 
Another  tribune,  Manilius,  brought  the  question  for- 
ward, this  time  directly  before  the  assembly,  th'e 
Senate's  consent  not  being  any  more  asked  for. 
Caesar  again  brought  his  influence  to  bear  on  Pom- 
pey's  side  ;  but  Caesar  found  support  in  a  quarter 
where  it  might  not  have  been  looked  for.  The  Sen- 
ate was  furious  as  before,  but  by  far  the  most  gifted 
person  in  the  conservative  party  now  openly  turned 
against  them.  Cicero  was  praetor  this  year,  and  was 
thus  himself   a  senator,     A  seat  in  the  Senate  had 


128  Ccesar. 

been  the  supreme  object  of  his  ambitiou.  He  was 
vain  of  the  honor  which  he  had  won,  and  delighted 
with  the  high  company  into  which  he  had  been  re- 
ceived ;  but  he  was  too  shrewd  to  go  along  with  them 
upon  a  road  which  could  lead  only  to  their  overthrow ; 
and  for  their  own  sake,  and  for  the  sake  of  the  insti- 
tution itself  of  which  he  meant  to  be  an  illustrious 
ornament,  he  not  only  supported  the  Manilian  propo- 
sition, but  supported  it  in  a  speech  more  effective 
than  the  wildest  outpourings  of  democratic  rhetoric. 
Asia  Minor,  he  said,  was  of  all  the  Roman  prov- 
inces the  most  important,  because  it  was  the  most 
wealthy. 1  So  rich  it  was  and  fertile  that,  for  the 
productiveness  of  its  soil,  the  variety  of  its  fruits,  the 
extent  of  its  pastures,  -and  the  multitude  of  its  ex- 
ports, there  was  no  country  in  the  world  to  be  com- 
pared with  it ;  yet  Asia  was  in  danger  of  being  ut- 
terly lost  through  the  worthlessness  of  the  governors 
and  military  commanders  charged  with  the  care  of 
it.  "  Who  does  not  know,"  Cicero  asked,  "  that  the 
avarice  of  our  generals  has  been  the  cause  of  the 
misfortunes  of  our  armies?  You  can  see  for  your- 
selves how  thej^"  act  here  at  home  in  Italy  ;  and  what 
will  they  not  venture  far  away  in  distant  countries  ? 
Officers  who  cannot  restrain  their  own  appetites,  can 
never  maintain  discipline  in  their  troops.  Pompey 
has  been  victorious  because  he  does  not  loiter  about 
the  towns  for  plunder  or  pleasure,  or  making  collec- 
tions of  statues  and  pictures.  Asia  is  a  land  of  temp- 
tations.    Send  no  one  thither  who  cannot  resist  gold 

1  "  Asia  vero  tam  opima  est  et  fertilis,  ut  et  ubertate  agrorum  et  vari* 
tate  frnctuum  et  magnitudine  pastionis,  et  multitudine  earuni  rerum,  quso 
exportentur,  facile  omnibus  terris  antecellat."  —  Pro  Lege  Manilid.  Cic- 
ero's expressions  are  worth  notice  at  a  time  when  Asia  Minor  has  becoma 
•f  importance  to  England. 


Cicero^s  Speech.  129 

and  jewels  and  shrines  and  pretty  women.  Pom- 
pey  is  upright  and  pure-sighted.  Pompey  knows 
that  the  State  has  been  impoverished  because  the  rev- 
enue flows  into  the  coffers  of  a  few  individuals.  Our 
fleets  and  armies  have  availed  only  to  bring  the  more 
disgrace  upon  us  through  our  defeats  and  losses."  ^ 

After  passing  a  deserved  panegyric  on  the  suppres- 
sion of  the  pirates,  Cicero  urged  with  all  the  power 
of  his  oratory  that  Manilius's  measures  should  be 
adopted,  and  that  the  same  general  who  had  done  so 
well  already  should  be  sent  against  Mithridates. 

This  was  perhaps  the  only  occasion  on  which  Cicero 
ever  addressed  the  assembly  in  favor  of  the  proposals 
of  a  popular  tribune.  Well  would  it  have  been  for 
him  and  well  for  Rome  if  he  could  have  held  on  upon 
a  course  into  which  he  had  been  led  by  real  patriot- 
ism. He  was  now  in  his  proper  place,  where  his  bet- 
ter mind  must  have  told  him  that  he  ought  to  have 
continued,  working  by  the  side  of  Caesar  and  Pom- 
pey. It  was  observed  that  more  than  once  in  his 
speech  he  mentioned  with  high  honor  the  name  of 
Marius.  He  appeared  to  have  seen  clearly  that  the 
Senate  was  bringing  the  State  to  perdition  ;  and  that 
unless  the  Republic  was  to  end  in  dissolution,  or  in 
tnob  rule  and  despotism,  the  wise  course  was  to  recog- 
nize the  legitimate  tendencies  of  popular  sentiment, 
and  to  lend  the  constant  weight  of  his  authority  to 
those  who  were  acting  in  harmony  with  it.  But  Cic- 
ero could  never  wholly  forget  his  own  consequence, 
or  bring  himself  to  persist  in  any  policy  where  he 
could  play  but  a  secondary  part. 

The  Manilian  law  was  carried.     In  addition  to  his 
present    extraordinary   command,    Pompey   was   in- 

1  Pro  Lege  Manilid,  abridged. 


130  Ccesar, 

trusted  with  the  conduct  of  the  war  in  Asia,  and  he 
was  left  unfettered  to  act  at  his  own  discretion.     He 
crossed  the  Bosphorus  with  fifty  thousand  men ;  he 
invaded  Pontus;  he   inflicted   a   decisive   defeat   on 
Mithridates,  and  broke  up  his  array  ;  he  drove  the 
Armenians  back  into  their  own  mountains,  and  ex- 
torted out   of   them  a   heavy  war  indemnity.     The 
barbarian  king  who  had  so  long  defied  the  Roman 
power  was  beaten  down  at  last,  and  fled  across  the 
Black  Sea  to  Kertch,  where  his  sons  turned  against 
him.     He  was  sixty-eight  years  old,  and  could  not 
wait  till  the  wheel  should  make  another  turn.     Bro- 
ken down  at  last,  he  took  leave  of  a  world  in  which 
for  him  there  was  no  longer  a  place.    His  women  poi- 
soned themselves  successfully.     He,  too  fortified  by 
antidotes  to  end  as  they  ended,  sought  a  surer  death, 
and  fell  like  Saul  by  the  sword  of  a  slave.     Rome 
had  put  out  her  real  strength,  and  at  once,  as  before, 
all  opposition  went  down  before  her.     Asia  was  com- 
pletely conquered,  up  to  the  line  of  the  Euphrates. 
The  Black  Sea  was  held  securely  by  a  Roman  fleet. 
Pompey  passed  down  into  Syria.     Antioch   surren- 
dered without  resistance.     Tyre  and  Damascus  fol- 
lowed.    Jerusalem  was  taken  by  storm,  and  the  Ro- 
man general  entered  the  Holy  of  Holies.     Of  all  the 
countries   bordering   on   the   Mediterranean,    Egypt 
only  was  left  independent,  and  of  all  the  islands  only 
Cyprus.     A  triumphal  inscription  in  Rome  declared 
that  Pompey,  the  people's  general,  had  in  three  years 
captured  fifteen  hundred  cities,  and  had  slain,  taken, 
or  reduced  to  submission,  twelve  million  human  be- 
ings.    He  justified  what  Cicero  had  foretold  of  his 
moral   uprightness.     In   the  midst  of   opportunities 
such  as  had  fallen  to  no  commander  since  Alexander, 


Pompey  in  Asia,  131 

he  outraged  no  woman's  honor,  and  lie  kept  Ms  hands 
clean  from  "  the  accursed  thing."  When  he  returned 
to  Rome,  he  returned,  as  he  went,  personally  poor, 
but  he  filled  the  treasury  to  overflowing.  His  cam- 
paign was  not  a  marauding  raid,  like  the  march  of  Lu- 
cullus  on  Artaxata.  His  conquests  were  permanent. 
The  East,  which  was  then  thickly  inhabited  by  an  in- 
dustrious civilized  Grseco-Oriental  race,  be- 

.    .  B.  C.  66-68. 

came  incorporated  in  the  Roman  dominion, 
and  the  annual  revenue  of  the  State  rose  to  twice 
what  it  had  been.  Pompey 's  success  had  been  daz- 
zlingly  rapid.  Envy  and  hatred,  as  he  well  knew, 
were  waiting  for  him  at  home ;  and  he  was  in  no  haste 
to  present  himself  there.  He  lingered  in  Asia,  organ- 
izing the  administration,  and  consolidating  his  work  ; 
while  at  Rome  the  constitution  was  rushing  on  upon 
its  old  courses  among  the  broken  waters,  with  the 
roar  of  the  not  distant  cataract  growing  every  nao- 
ment  louder. 


CHAPTER  XI. 

Among  the  patricians  who  were  rising  through  the 
lower  magistracies  and  were  aspiring  to  the  consul- 
ship was  Lucius  Sergius  Catiline.  Catiline,  now  in 
middle  life,  had  when  young  been  a  fervent  admirer 
of  Sylla,  and,  as  has  been  already  said,  had  been  an 
active  agent  in  the  proscription.  He  had  murdered 
his  brother-in-law,  and  perhaps  his  brother,  under 
political  pretences.  In  an  age  when  licentiousness 
of  the  grossest  kind  was  too  common  to  attract  at- 
tention, Catiline  had  achieved  a  notoriety  for  infamy. 
He  had  intrigued  with  a  Vestal  virgin,  the  sister  of 
Cicero's  wife,  Terentia.  If  Cicero  is  to  be  believed, 
he  had  made  away  with  his  own  wife,  that  he  might 
marry  Aurelia  Orestilla,  a  woman  as  wicked  as  she 
was  beautiful,  and  he  had  killed  his  child  also  be- 
cause Aurelia  had  objected  to  be  incumbered  with  a 
step-son.  But  this,  too,  was  common  in  high  society 
in  those  days.  Adultery  and  incest  had  become  fa- 
miliar excitements.  Boys  of  ten  years  old  had  learnt 
the  art  of  poisoning  their  fathers,^  and  the  story  of 
Aurelia  Orestilla  and  Catiline  had  been  rehearsed  a 
few  years  before  by  Sassia  and  Oppianicus  at  Larino.^ 
Other  enormities  Catiline  had  been  guilty  of,  which 
Cicero  declined  to  mention,  lest  he  should  show  too 
openly  what  crimes  might  go  unpunished  under  the 

1  "  Nunc  quis  patrem  decern  annorum  natus  non  modo  aufert  sed  toUit 
Viisi  veneno?  "  —  Varronis  Fragmenta,  ed.  Alexander  Riese,  p.  216. 

2  See  the  story  in  Cicero,  Pro  Cluentio. 


Oatiline,  133 

Benatorial  administration.  But  villainy,  however  no- 
torious, did  not  interfere  with  advancement  in  the 
public  service.  Catiline  was  adroit,  bold,  and  even 
captivating.  He  made  his  way  into  high  office  along 
the  usual  gradations.  He  was  praetor  in  B.  0.  68. 
Hs  went  as  governor  to  Africa  in  the  year  follow- 
ing, and  he  returned  with  money  enough,  as  he  rea- 
sonably hoped,  to  purchase  the  last  step  to  the  con- 
sulship. He  was  impeached  when  he  came  back  for 
extortion  and  oppression,  under  one  of  the  many 
laws  which  were  made  to  be  laughed  at.  Till  his 
trial  was  over  he  was  disqualified  from  presenting 
himself  as  a  candidate,  and  the  election  for  the  year 
65  was  carried  by  Autronius  Psetus  and  Cornelius 
Sylla.  Two  other  patricians,  Aurelius  Cotta  and 
Manlius  Torquatus,  had  stood  against  them.  The 
successful  competitors  were  unseated  for  bribery ; 
Cotta  and  Torquatus  took  their  places ;  and,  appar- 
ently as  a  natural  resource  in  the  existing  contempt 
into  which  the  constitution  had  fallen,  the  disap- 
pointed candidates  formed  a  plot  to  kill  their  rivals 
and  their  rivals'  friends  in  the  Senate,  and  to  make 
a  revolution.  Cneius  Piso,  a  young  nobleman  of  the 
bluest  blood,  joined  in  the  conspiracy.  Catiline  threw 
himself  into  it  as  his  natural  element,  and  aristocratic 
tradition  said  in  later  years  that  Caesar  and  Crassus 
were  implicated  also.  Some  desperate  scheme  there 
certainly  was,  but  the  accounts  of  it  are  confused : 
one  authority  says  that  it  failed  because  Catiline  gave 
the  signal  prematurely ;  others  that  Caesar  was  to 
have  given  the  signal,  and  did  not  do  it ;  others  that 
Crassus's  heart  failed  him  ;  others  that  the  consuls 
had  secret  notice  given  to  them  and  took  precau- 
tions,    Cicero,   who  was  in  Rome  at  the  time,  de- 


134  Ccesar, 

clares  that  he  never  heard  of  the  conspiracy.^  When 
evidence  is  inconclusive,  probability  becomes  argu- 
ment. Nothing  can  be  less  likely  than  that  a  cau- 
tious capitalist  of  vast  wealth  like  Crassus  should 
have  connected  himself  with  a  party  of  dissolute  ad- 
venturers. Had  Cassar  committed  himself,  jealously 
watched  as  he  was  by  the  aristocrats,  some  proofs  of 
his  complicity  would  have  been  forthcoming.  The 
aristocracy  under  the  empire  revenged  themselves  for 
their  ruin  by  charging  Csesar  with  a  share  in  every 
combination  that  had  been  formed  against  them,  from 
Sylla's  time  downwards.  Be  the  truth  what  it  may, 
nothing  came  of  this  project.  Piso  went  to  Spain, 
where  he  was  killed.  The  prosecution  of  Catiline 
for  his  African  misgovernment  was  continued,  and, 
strange  to  say,  Cicero  undertook  his  defence.  He 
was  under  no  uncertainty  as  to  Catiline's  general 
character,  or  his  particular  guilt  in  the  charge  brought 
against  him.  It  was  plain  as  the  sun  at  midday .^ 
But  Cicero  was  about  to  stand  himself  for  the  consul- 
ship, the  object  of  his  most  passionate  de- 
sire. He  had  several  competitors  ;  and  as 
he  thought  well  of  Catiline's  prospects,  he  intended 
to  coalesce  with  him.^  Catiline  was  acquitted,  ap- 
parently through  a  special  selection  of  the  judges, 
with  the  connivance  of  the  prosecutor.  The  canvass 
was  violent,  and  the  corruption  flagrant.^     Cicero  did 

1  Pro  P.  Sulla,  4. 

2  "  Catilina,  si  judiratum  erit,  meridie  non  lucere,  certus  erit  competi- 
tor." —  Episl.  ad  Atticum,  i.  1. 

8  "Hoc  tempore  Catilinam,  competitorem  nostrum,  defendere  cogita- 
mus.  Judices  habemus,  quos  voliimus,  summa  accusatoris  voluntate. 
Spero,  si  absolatus  erit,  conjunctiorem  ilium  nobis  fore  in  ratione  peti- 
tionis."— /6.  i.  2. 

*  "  Scito  nihil  tam  exercitum  nunc  esse  Romas  qr.am  candidatos  omnibua 
Initjuitatibus."  —  lb.  i.  11. 


Catiline  and  Cicero,  135 

not  bribe  himself,  but  if  Catiline's  voters  would  give 
him  a  help,  he  was  not  so  scrupulous  as  to  be  above 
taking  advantage  of  it.  Catiline's  humor  or  the  cir- 
cumstances of  the  time  provided  him  with  a  more 
honorable  support.  He  required  a  more  manageable 
colleague  than  he  could  have  found  in  Cicero.  Among 
the  candidates  was  one  of  Sylla's  officers,  Caius  An- 
tonius,  the  uncle  of  Marc  Antony,  the  triumvir.  This 
Antonius  had  been  prosecuted  by  Csesar  for  ill-usage 
of  the  Macedonians.  He  had  been  expelled  by  the 
censors  from  the  Senate  for  general  worthlessness ; 
but  public  disgrace  seems  to  have  had  no  effect  what- 
ever on  the  chances  of  a  candidate  for  the  consulship 
in  this  singular  age.  Antonius  was  weak  and  vicious, 
and  Catiline  could  mould  him  as  he  pleased.  He 
had  made  himself  popular  by  his  profusion  when 
aedile  in  providing  shows  for  the  mob.  The  feeling 
against  the  Senate  was  so  bitter  that  the  aristocracy 
had  no  chance  of  carrying  a  candidate  of  their  own, 
and  the  competition  was  reduced  at  last  to  Catiline, 
Antonius,  and  Cicero.  Antonius  was  certain  of  his 
election,  and  the  contest  lay  between  Catiline  and 
Cicero.  Each  of  them  tried  to  gain  the  support  of 
Antonius  and  his  friends.  Catiline  promised  Anto- 
aius  a  revolution,  in  which  they  were  to  share  the 
world  between  them.  Cicero  promised  his  influence 
io  obtain  some  lucrative  province  for  Antonius  to 
misgovern.  Catiline  would  probably  have  succeeded, 
when  the  aristocracy,  knowing  what  to  expect  if  so 
scandalous  a  pair  came  into  office,  threw  their  weight 
on  Cicero's  side,  and  turned  the  scale.  Cicero  was 
liked  among  the  people  for  his  prosecution  of  Verres, 
for  his  support  of  the  Manilian  law,  and  for  the  bold- 
ness with  which  he  had  exposed  patrician  delinquen- 


136  Coesar, 

cies.  With  the  Senate  for  him  also,  he  was  returned 
at  the  head  of  the  poll.  The  proud  Roman  nobility 
had  selected  a  self-made  lawyer  as  their  representa- 
tive. Cicero  was  consul,  and  Antonius  with  him. 
Catiline  had  failed.  It  was  the  turning-point  of  Cic- 
ero's life.  Before  his  consulship  he  had  not  irrevo- 
cably taken  a  side.  No  public  speaker  had  more  elo- 
quently shown  the  necessity  for  reform ;  no  one  had 
denounced  with  keener  sarcasm  the  infamies  and  fol- 
lies of  senatorial  favorites.  Conscience  and  patriot- 
ism should  have  alike  held  him  to  the  reforming 
part}?^ ;  and  political  instinct,  if  vanity  had  left  him 
the  use  of  his  perception,  would  have  led  him  in  the 
same  direction.  Possibly  before  he  received  the  votes 
of  the  patricians  and  their  clients,  he  had  bound  him- 
self with  certain  engagements  to  them.  Possibly  he 
held  the  Senate's  intellect  cheap,  and  saw  the  position 
which  he  could  arrive  at  among  the  aristocracy  if  he 
offered  them  his  services.  The  strongest  intellect 
was  with  the  reformers,  and  first  on  that  side  he 
could  never  be.  First  among  the  Conservatives  ^  he 
could  easily  be ;  and  he  might  prefer  being  at  the 
head  of  a  party  which  at  heart  he  despised  to  work-' 
ing  at  the  side  of  persons  who  must  stand  inevitably 
above  him.  "We  may  regret  that  gifted  men  should 
be  influenced  by  personal  considerations,  but  under 
party  government  it  is  a  fact  that  they  are  so  influ- 
enced, and  will  be  as  long  as  it  continues.  Csesar 
and  Pompey  were  soldiers.  The  army  was  demo- 
cratic, and  the  triumph  of  the  democracy  meant  the 
rule  of  a  popular  general.  Cicero  was  a  civilian,  and 
a  man  of  speech.  In  the  Forum  and  in  the  Curia 
he  knew  that  he  could  reign  supreme. 

'-  I  use  a  W)rd  apparently  modern,  but  Cicero  himself  gave  the  name  ol 
Conservatores  Reipublicae  to  the  party  to  which  he  belonged. 


Ccesar  elected  JEdile,  137 

Cicero  had  thus  reached  the  highest  step  in  the 
scale  of  promotion  by  trimming  between  the  rival 
factions.  Caesar  was  rising  simultaneously  behind 
him  on  lines  of  his  own.  In  the  year  B.  C.  65  he 
had  been  sedile,  having  for  his  colleague  Bibulus,  his 
future  companion  on  the  successive  grades  of  ascent. 
Bibulus  was  a  rich  plebeian,  whose  delight  in  office 
was  the  introduction  which  it  gave  him  into  the  so- 
ciety of  the  great ;  and  in  his  politics  he  outdid  his 
aristocratic  patrons.  The  aediles  had  charge  of  the 
public  buildings  and  the  games  and  exhibitions  in 
the  capital.  The  sedileship  was  a  magistracy  through 
which  it  was  ordinarily  necessary  to  pass  in  order 
to  reach  the  consulship  ;  and  as  the  aediles  were  ex- 
pected to  bear  their  own  expenses,  the  consulship  was 
thus  restricted  to  those  who  could  afford  an  extrava- 
gant outlay.  They  were  expected  to  decorate  the 
city  with  new  ornaments,  and  to  entertain  the  people 
with  magnificent  spectacles.  If  they  fell  short  of 
public  expectation,  they  need  look  no  further  for  the 
suffrages  of  their  many-headed  master.  Cicero  had 
slipped  through  the  sedileship,  without  ruin  to  him- 
self. He  was  a  self-raised  man,  known  to  be  de- 
pendent upon  his  own  exertions,  and  liked  from  the 
willingness  with  which  he  gave  his  help  to  accused 
persons  on  their  trials.  Thus  no  great  demands  had 
been  made  upon  him.  Caesar,  either  more  ambitious 
or  less  confident  in  his  services,  raised  a  new  aiid 
costly  row  of  columns  in  front  of  the  Capitol.  He 
built  a  temple  to  the  Dioscuri,  and  he  charmed  the 
populace  with  a  show  of  gladiators  unusually  exten- 
sive. Personally  he  cared  nothing  for  these  san- 
guinary exhibitions,  and  he  displayed  his  indifference 
listentatiously  by  reading  or  writing  while  the  butch- 


138  Cmar, 

ery  was  going  forward.^  But  he  required  the  favor 
of  the  multitude,  and  then,  as  always,  took  the  road 
which  led  most  directly  to  his  end.  The  noble  lords 
watched  him  suspiciously,  and  their  uneasiness  was 
not  diminished  when,  not  content  with  having  pro- 
duced the  insignia  of  Marius  at  his  aunt's  funeral,  he 
restored  the  trophies  for  the  victories  over  the  Cim- 
bri  and  Teutons,  which  had  been  removed  by  Sylla. 
The  name  of  Marius  was  growing  every  day  more 
dear  to  the  popular  party.  They  forgave,  if  they 
had  ever  resented,  his  cruelties.  His  veterans  who 
had  fought  with  him  through  his  campaigns  came 
forward  in  tears  to  salute  the  honored  relics  of  their 
once  glorious  commander. 

As  he  felt  the  ground  stronger  under  his  feet, 
Caesar  now  began  to  assume  an  attitude  more  per- 
emptorily marked.  He  had  won  a  reputation  in  the 
Forum ;  he  had  spoken  in  the  Senate ;  he  had  warmly 
advocated  the  appointment  of  Pompey  to  his  high 
commands ;  and  ,he  was  regarded  as  a  prominent 
democratic  leader.  But  he  had  not  aspired  to  the 
tribunate ;  he  had  not  thrown  himself  into  politics 
with  any  absorbing  passion.  His  exertions  had  been 
intermittent,  and  he  was  chiefly  known  as  a  brilliant 
member  of  fashionable  society,  a  peculiar  favorite 
with  women,  and  remarkable  for  his  abstinence  from 
the  coarse  debauchery  which  disgraced  his  patrician 
contemporaries.  He  was  now  playing  for  a  higher 
stake,  and  the  oligarchy  had  occasion  to  be  reminded 
of  Sylla's  prophecy.     In  carrying  out  the  proscrip- 

1  Suetonius,  spe iking  of  AugustuSj  says:  " Quoties  adesset,  nihil  prae- 
terea  agebat,  seu  vitandi  rumoris  causa,  quo  patrem  Caesarem  vulgo  rep- 
rehensum  commemorabat,  quod  inter  spectandum  epistolis  libellisque  le« 
gendis  aut  rescribendis  vacaret;  seu  studio  spectandi  et  voluptate,"  etc.  — > 
Vita  Octavii,  45. 


Inquiry  into  the  Syllan  Proscription.        139 

tion,  Sylla  had  employed  professional  assassins,  and 
payments  had  been  made  out  of  the  treasury  to 
wretches  who  came  to  him  with  bloody  trophies  in 
tlieir  hands  to  demand  the  promised  fees.  The  time 
had  come  when  these  doings  were  to  be  looked  into ; 
hundreds  of  men  had  been  murdered,  their  estates 
confiscated,  and  their  families  ruined,  who  had  not 
been  even  ostensibly  guilty  of  any  public  crime.  At 
Caesar's  instance  an  inquiry  was  ordered.  He  him- 
self was  appointed  Judex  Quaestionis,  or  chairman  of 
a  committee  of  investigation ;  and  Catiline,  among 
others,  was  called  to  answer  for  himself  —  a  curious 
commentary  on  Caesar's  supposed  connection  with 
him. 

Nor  did  the  inquisition  stop  with  Sylla.    Titus  La- 
bienus,  afterwards  so  famous  and  so   infa-  „ 

mous,  was  then  tribune  of  the  people.  His 
father  had  been  killed  at  the  side  of  Saturninus  and 
Glaucia  thirty-seven  years  before,  when  the  young 
lords  of  Rome  had  unroofed  the  senate  house,  and  had 
pelted  them  and  their  companions  to  death  with  tiles. 
One  of  the  actors  in  the  scene,  Caius  Rabirius,  now 
a  very  old  man,  was  still  alive.  Labienus  prosecuted 
him  before  Caesar.  Rabirius  was  condemned,  and  ap- 
pealed to  the  people;  and  Cicero,  who  had  just  been 
made  consul,  spoke  in  his  defence.  On  this  occasion 
Cicero  for  the  first  time  came  actively  in  collision 
with  Caesar.  His  language  contrasted  remarkably 
with  the  tone  of  his  speeches  against  Verres  and  for 
the  Manilian  law.  It  was  adroit,  for  he  charged  Ma- 
rius  with  having  shared  the  guilt,  if  guilt  there  had 
been,  in  the  death  of  those  men ;  but  the  burden  of 
what  he  said  was  to  defend  enthusiastically  the  con- 
servative aristocracy,  and  to  censure  with  all  his  bit- 


140  Coesar, 

terness  the  democratic  reformers.  Rabirius  was  ac- 
quitted, perhaps  justly.  It  was  a  hard  thing  to  revive 
the  memory  of  a  political  crime  which  had  been  shared 
by  the  whole  patrician  order  after  so  long  an  interval. 
But  Cicero  had  shown  his  new  colors ;  no  help,  it  was 
evident,  was  thenceforward  to  be  expected  from  him 
in  the  direction  of  reform.  The  popular  party  re- 
plied in  a  singular  manner.  The  office  of  Pontifex 
Maximus  was  the  most  coveted  of  all  the  honors  to 
which  a  Roman  citizen  could  aspire.  It  was  held  for 
life :  it  was  splendidly  endowed  ;  and  there  still  hung 
about  the  pontificate  the  traditionary  dignity  attach- 
ing to  the  chief  of  the  once  sincerely  believed  Roman 
religion.  Like  other  objects  of  ambition,  the  nomi- 
nation had  fallen,  with  the  growth  of  democracy,  to 
the  people,  but  the  position  had  always  been  held  by 
some  member  of  the  old  aristocracy ;  and  Sylla,  to  se- 
cure them  in  the  possession  of  it,  had  reverted  to  the 
ancient  constitution,  and  had  restored  to  the  Sacred 
College  the  privilege  of  choosing  their  head.  Under 
the  impulse  which  the  popular  party  had  received 
from  Pompey's  successes,  Labienus  carried  a  vote  in 
the  assembly,  by  which  the  people  resumed  the  nom- 
ination to  the  pontificate  to  themselves.  In  the  same 
year  it  fell  vacant  by  the  death  of  the  aged  Metellus 
Pius.  Two  patricians,  Quintus  Catulus  and  Caesar's 
old  general  Servilius  Isauricus,  were  the  Senate's  can- 
didates, and  vast  sums  were  subscribed  and  spent  to 
secure  the  success  of  one  or  other  of  the  two.  Caesar 
came  forwai'd  to  oppose  them.  Csesar  aspired  to  be 
Pontifex  Maximus  —  Pope  of  Rome — he  who  of  all 
men  living  was  the  least  given  to  illusion ;  he  who 
waa  the  most  frank  in  his  confession  of  entire  disbe- 
lief in  the  legends  which,  though  few  credited  them 


The  Pontificate,  141 

any  more,  yet  almost  all  thought  it  decent  to  pretend 
to  credit.  Among  the  phenomena  of  the  time  this 
was  surely  the  most  singular.  Yet  Caesar  had  been  a 
priest  from  his  boyhood,  and  why  should  he  not  be 
Pope?  He  offered  himself  to  the  Comitia.  Com- 
mitted as  he  was  to  a  contest  with  the  richest  mep  in 
Rome,  he  spent  money  freely.  He  was  in  debt  al- 
ready for  his  expenses  as  sedile.  He  engaged  his 
credit  still  deeper  for  this  new  competition.  The 
story  ran  that  when  his  mother  kissed  him  as  he  was 
leaving  his  home  for  the  Forum  on  the  morning  of 
the  election,  he  told  her  that  he  would  return  as  pon- 
tiff, or  she  would  never  see  him  more.  He  was  chosen 
by  an  overwhelming  majority;  the  votes  given  for 
him  being  larger  than  the  collective  numbers  of  the 
votes  entered  for  his  opponents. 

The  election  for  the  pontificate  was  on  the  6th  of 
March,  and  soon  after  Caesar  received  a  further  evi- 
dence of  popular  favor  on  being  chosen  prgetor  for 
the  next  year.  As  the  liberal  party  was  growing  in 
courage  and  definiteness,  Cicero  showed  himself  more 
decidedly  on  the  other  side.  Now  was  the .  time  for 
him,  highly  placed  as  he  was,  to  prevent  a  repeti- 
tion of  the  scandals  which  he  had  so  eloquently  de- 
nounced, to  pass  laws  which  no  future  Verres  or 
Lucullus  could  dare  to  defy.  Now  was  his  opportu- 
nity to  take  the  wind  out  of  the  reformers'  sails,  and 
to  grapple  himself  with  the  thousand  forms  of  patri- 
cian villainy  which  he  well  knew  to  be  destroying  the 
Commonwealth.  Not  one  such  measure,  save  an  in- 
effectual attempt  to  check  election  bribery,  distin- 
guished the  consulship  of  Cicero.  His  entire  efforts 
were  directed  to  the  combination  in  a  solid  phalanx 
of  the  equestrian  and  patrician  orders.     The  danger 


142  CcBsar, 

to  society,  he  had  come  to  think,  was  an  approaching 
war  against  property,  and  his  hope  was  to  unite  the 
rich  of  both  classes  in  defence  against  the  landless  and 
moneyless  multitudes.^  The  land  question  had  become 
again  as  pressing  as  in  the  time  of  the  Gracchi.  The 
peasant  proprietors  were  mblting  away  as  fast  as  ever, 
and  Rome  was  becoming  choked  with  impoverished 
citizens,  who  ought  to  have  been  farmers  and  fathers 
of  families,  but  were  degenerating  into  a  rabble  fed 
upon  the  corn  grants,  and  occupied  with  nothing  but 
spectacles  and  politics.  The  Agrarian  laws  in  the 
past  had  been  violent,  and  might  reasonably  be  com- 
plained of  ;  but  a  remedy  could  now  be  found  for  this 
fast  increasing  mischief  without  injury  to  any  one. 
Pompey's  victories  had  filled  the  public  treasury. 
Vast  territories  abroad  had  lapsed  to  the  possession 
of  the  State ;  and  RuUus,  one  of  the  tribunes,  pro- 
posed that  part  of  these  territories  should  be  sold,  and 
that  out  of  the  proceeds  and  out  of  the  money  which 
Pompey  had  sent  home,  farms  should  be  purchased 
in  Italy  and  poor  citizens  settled  upon  them.  Rul- 
lus's  scheme  might  have  been  crude,  and  the  details 
of  it  objectionable ;  but  to  attempt  the  problem  was 
better  than  to  sit  still  and  let  the  evil  go  unchecked. 
If  the  bill  was  impracticable  in  its  existing  form,  it 
might  have  been  amended ;  and  so  far  as  the  immedi- 

1  "Writing  three  years  later  to  Atticus,  he  says  :  "Confirmabam  omnium 
privatorum  possessiones,  is  enim  est  noster  exercitus,  ut  tute  scis  locuple- 
tium."  —  To  Atticus,  i.  19.  Pomponius  Atticus,  Cicero's  most  intimate 
correspondent,  was  a  Roman  knight,  who  inheriting  a  large  estate  from 
his  father,  increased  it  by  contracts,  banking,  money-lending,  and  slave- 
dealing,  in  which  he  was  deeply  engaged.  He  was  an  accomplished,  cul- 
tivated man,  a  shrewd  observer  of  the  times,  and  careful  of  committing 
himself  on  any  side.  His  acquaintance  with  Cicero  rested  on  similarity  of 
temperament,  with  a  solid  financial  basis  at  the  bottom  of  it.  They  were 
mutually  useful  to  each  other. 


'  Agrarian  Law  of  Rullus.  143 

ate  effect  of  such  a  law  was  concerned,  it  was  against 
the  interests  of  the  democrats.  The  popular  vote  de- 
pended for  its  strength  on  the  masses  of  poor  who  were 
crowded  into  Rome ;  and  the  tribune  was  proposing 
to  weaken  his  own  army.  But  the  very  name  of  an 
Agrarian  law  set  patrician  householders  in  a  flutter, 
and  Cicero  stooped  to  be  their  advocate.  He  at- 
tacked Rullus  with  brutal  sarcasm.  He  insulted  his 
appearance ;  he  ridiculed  his  dress,  his  hair,  and  his 
beard.  He  mocked  at  his  bad  enunciation  and  bad 
grammar.  No  one  more  despised  the  mob  than  Cic- 
ero ;  but  because  Rullus  had  said  that  the  city  rabble 
was  dangerously  powerful,  and  ought  to  be  "drawn 
off"  to  some  wholesome  employment,  the  eloquent 
consul  condescended  to  quote  the  words,  to  score  a 
point  against  his  opponent;  and  he  told  the  crowd 
that  their  tribune  had  described  a  number  of  excel- 
lent citizens  to  the  Senate  as  no  better  than  the  con- 
tents of  a  cesspool.^ 

By  these  methods  Cicero  caught  the  people's  voices. 
The  plan  came  to  nothing,  and  his  consulship  would 
have  waned  away,  undistinguished  by  any  act  which 
his  country  would  have  cared  to  remember,  but  for  an 
accident  which  raised  him  for  a  moment  into  a  posi- 
tion of  real  consequence,  and  impressed  on  his  own 
mind  a  conviction  that  he  was  a  second  Romulus. 

Revolutionary  conspiracies  are  only  formidable 
when  the  government  against  which  they  are  directed 
is  already  despised  and  detested.  As  long  as  an  ad- 
ministration is  endurable  the  majority  of  citizens  pre- 
fer to  bear  with  it,  and  will  assist  in  repressing  vio- 

^  "  Et  nimium  istud  est,  quod  ab  hoc  tribuno  plebis  dictum  est  in  sen- 
•lu:  ui banana  plebem  nimium  in  republica  posse  :  exhauriendam  esse:  hoc 
vHim  verbo  est  usus  ;  quasi  de  aliqua.  sentinn,  ac  non  de  optimorum  civium 
i^nere  loqueretur."  —  Contra  Eullum,  ii.  26. 


144       .  CcBsar, 

lent  attempts  at  its  overthrow.  Their  patience, 
however,  may  be  exhausted,  and  the  disgust  may  rise 
to  a  point  when  any  change  may  seem  an  improve- 
ment. Authority  is  no  longer  shielded  by  the  maj- 
esty with  which  it  ought  to  be  surrounded.  It  has 
made  public  its  own  degradation;  and  the  most 
worthless  adventurer  knows  that  he  has  no  moral  in- 
dignation to  fear  if  he  tries  to  snatch  the  reins  out  of 
hands  which  are  at  least  no  more  pure  than  his  own. 
If  he  can  dress  his  endeavors  in  the  livery  of  patriot- 
ism, if  he  can  put  himself  forward  as  the  champion 
of  an  injured  people,  he  can  cover  the  scandals  of  his 
own  character  and  appear  as  a  hero  and  a  liberator. 
Catiline  had  missed  the  consulship,  and  was  a  ruined 
man.  He  had  calculated  on  succeeding  to  a  province 
where  he  might  gather  a  golden  harvest  and  come 
home  to  live  in  splendor,  like  Lucullus.  He  had 
failed,  defeated  by  a  mere  plebeian,  whom  his  brother 
patricians  had  stooped  to  prefer  to  him.  Were  the 
secret  history  known  of  the  contest  for  the  consul- 
ship, much  might  be  discovered  there  to  explain  Cic- 
ero's and  Catiline's  hatred  of  each  other.  Cicero  had 
once  thought  of  coalescing  with  Catiline,  notwith- 
standing his  knoAvledge  of  his  previous  crimes : 
Catiline  had  perhaps  hoped  to  dupe  Cicero,  and  had 
been  himself  outwitted.  He  intended  to  stand  again 
for  the  year  62,  but  evidently  on  a  different  footing 
from  that  on  which  he  had  presented  himself  before. 
That  such  a  man  should  have  been  able  to  offer  him- 
self at  all,  and  that  such  a  person  as  Cicero  should 
have  entered  into  any  kind  of  amicable  relations  with 
him,  was  a  sign  by  itself  that  the  Commonwealth  was 
already  sickening  for  death. 

Catiline  was   surrounded   by  men  of  high  birth, 


Catiline  stands  for  the  Oonsulship.         145- 

whose  fortunes  were  desperate  as  his  own.  There 
was  Lentulus,  who  had  been  consul  a  few  years  be- 
fore, and  had  been  expelled  from  the  Senate  by  the 
censors.  There  was  Cethegus,  staggering  under  a 
mountain  of  debts.  There  was  Autronius,  who  had 
been  unseated  for  bribery  when  chosen  consul  in  Qk*, 
There  was  Manlius,  once  a  distinguished  officer  in 
Sylla's  army,  and  now  a  beggar.  Besides  these  were 
a  number  of  senators,  knights,  gentlemen,  and  disso- 
lute young  patricians,  whose  theory  of  the  world  was 
that  it  had  been  created  for  them  to  take  their  pleas- 
ure in,  and  who  found  their  pleasures  shortened  by 
emptiness  of  purse.  To  them,  as  to  their  betters, 
the  Empire  was  but  a  large  dish  out  of  which  they 
considered  that  they  had  a  right  to  feed  themselves. 
They  were  defrauded  of  their  proper  share,  and  Cati- 
line was  the  person  who  would  help  them  to  it. 

Etruria  was  full  of  Sylla's  disbanded  soldiers,  who 
had  squandered  their  allotments,  and  were  hanging 
about,  unoccupied  and  starving.  Catiline  sent  down 
Manlius,  their  old  officer,  to  collect  as  many  as  he 
could  of  them  without  attracting  notice.  He  him- 
self, as  the  election  day  approached,  and  Cicero's 
year  of  office  was  drawing  to  an  end,  took  up  the 
character  of  an  aristocratic  demagogue,  and  asked  for 
the  suffrages  of  the  people  as  the  champion  of  the 
poor  against  the  rich,  as  the  friend  of  the  wretched 
and  oppressed ;  and  those  who  thought  themselves 
wretched  and  oppressed  in  Rome  were  so  large  a 
body,  and  so  bitterly  hostile  were  they  all  to  the  pros- 
perous classes,  that  his  election  was  anticipated  as  a 
certainty.  In  the  Senate  the  consulship  of  Catiline 
was  regarded  as  no  less  than  an  impending  national 
calamity.     Marcus  Cato,  great-grandson  of  the  Cen- 


146  Ccesar. 

sor,  then  growing  into  fame  by  his  acrid  tongue  and 
narrow  republican  fanaticism,  who  had  sneered  at 
Pompey's  victories  as  triumphs  over  women,  and  had 
not  spared  even  Cicero  himself,  threatened  Catiline 
in  the  Curia.  Catiline  answered,  in  a  fully  attended 
house,  that  if  any  agitation  was  kindled  against  him 
he  would  put  it  out  not  with  water,  but  with  revolu- 
tion. His  language  became  so  audacious  that,  on  the 
eve  of  the  election  day,  Cicero  moved  for  a  postpone- 
ment, that  the  Senate  might  take  his  language  into 
consideration.  Catiline's  conduct  was  brought  on  for 
debate,  and  the  consul  called  on  him  to  explain  him- 
self. There  was  no  concealment  in  Catiline.  Then 
and  always  Cicero  admits  he  was  perfectly  frank. 
He  made  no  excuses.  He  admitted  the  truth  of  what 
had  been  reported  of  him.  The  State,  he  said,  had 
two  bodies,  one  weak  (the  aristocracy),  with  a  weak 
leader  (Cicero);  the  other,  the  great  mass  of  the 
citizens  —  strong  in  themselves,  but  without  a  head, 
and  he  himself  intended  to  be  that  head.^  A  groan 
was  heard  in  the  house,  but  less  loud  than  in  Cicero's 
opinion  it  ought  to  have  been;  and  Catiline  sailed 
out  in  triumph,  leaving  the  noble  lords  looking  in 
each  other's  faces. 

Both  Cicero  and  the  Senate  were  evidently  in  the 
greatest  alarm  that  Catiline  would  succeed  constitu- 
tionally in  being  chosen  consul,  and  they  strained 
every  sinew  to  prevent  so  terrible  a  catastrophe. 
When  the  Comitia  came  on,  Cicero  admits  that  he 
occupied  the  voting  place  in  the  Campus  Martius  with 
a  guard  of  men  who  could  be  depended  on.  He  was 
violating  the  law,  which  forbade  the  presence  of  an 
armed  force  on  those  occasions.     He  excused  himself 

1  Cicero,  Pro  Murend,  25. 


The  Catiline  Conspiracy.  147 

by  pretending  that  Catiline's  party  intended  violence, 
and  he  appeared  ostentatiously  in  a  breastplate  as  if 
his  own  life  was  aimed  at.  The  result  was,  that  Cati- 
line failed  once  more,  and  was  rejected  by  a  small 
majority i  Cicero  attributes  his  defeat  to  the  moral 
effect  produced  by  the  breastplate.  But  October 
from  the  time  of  the  Gracchi  downwards  ^•^•^• 
the  aristocracy  had  not  hesitated  to  lay  pressure  on 
the  elections  when  they  could  safely  do  it ;  and  the 
story  must  be  taken  with  reservation,  in  the  absence 
of  a  more  impartial  account  than  we  possess  of  the 
purpose  to  which  Cicero's  guard  was  applied.  Un- 
doubtedly it  was  desirable  to  strain  the  usual  rules  to 
keep  a  wretch  like  Catiline  from  the  consulship  ;  but 
as  certainly,  both  before  the  election  and  after  it,  Cat- 
iline had  the  sympathies  of  a  very  large  part  of  the 
resident  inhabitants  of  the  city,  and  these  sympathies 
must  be  taken  into  account  if  we  are  to  understand 
the  long  train  of  incidents  of  which  this  occasion  was 
the  beginning. 

Two  strict  aristocrats,  Decimus  Silanus  and  Lucius 
Murena,^  were  declared  elected.  Pompey  was  on  his 
way  home,  but  had  not  yet  reached  Italy.  There 
were  no  regular  troops  in  the  whole  Peninsula,  and 
the  nearest  approach  to  an  army  was  the  body  of 
Syllans,  whom  Manlius  had  quietly  collected  at  Fie- 
sole.  Cicero's  colleague,  Antonius,  was  secretly  in 
communication  with  Catiline,  evidently  thinking  it 
likely  that  he  would  succeed.     Catiline  determined 

1  Murena  was  afterwards  prosecuted  for  bribery  at  this  election.  Cicero 
defended  him;  but  even  Cato,  aristocrat  as  he  was,  affected  to  be  shocked 
at  the  virtuous  consul's  undertaking  so  bad  a  case.  It  is  observable  that 
m  his  speech  for  Murena,  Cicero  found  as  many  virtues  in  Luculhis  as  in 
his  speech  on  the  Manilian  Law  he  had  found  vices.  It  was  another  symp 
toir  of  hj'  change  of  attitude. 


148  *  Ccesar. 

to  wait  no  longer,  and  to  raise  an  insurrection  in  the 
capital,  with  slave  emancipation  and  a  cancelling  of 
debt  for  a  cry.  Manlius  was  to  march  on  Rome,  and 
the  Senate,  it  was  expected,  would  fall  without  a 
blow.  Caesar  and  Crassus  sent  a  warning  to  Cicero 
to  be  on  his  guard.  Caesar  had  called  Catiline  to  ac- 
count for  his  doings  at  the  time  of  the  proscription, 
and  knew  his  nature  too  well  to  expect  benefit  to 
the  people  from  a  revolution  conducted  under  the 
auspices  of  bankrupt  patrician  adventurers.  No  citi- 
zen had  more  to  lose  than  Crassus  from  a  crusade  of 
the  poor  against  the  rich.  But  they  had  both  been 
suspected  two  years  before  ;  and  in  the  excited  tem- 
per of  men's  minds,  they  took  precautious  for  their 
own  reputation's  sake,  as  well  as  for  the  safety  of  the 
State.  Quintus  Curius,  a  senator,  who  was  one  of 
the  conspirators,  was  meanwhile  betraying  his  accom- 
plices, and  gave  daily  notice  to  the  consuls  of  each 
step  which  was  contemplated.  But  so  weak  was  au- 
thority, and  so  dangerous  the  temper  of  the  people, 
that  the  difficulty  was  to  know  what  to  do.  Secret 
information  was  scarcely  needed.  Catiline,  as  Cicero 
said,  was  "  apertissimus,^^  most  frank  in  the  declara- 
tion of  his  intentions.  Manlius's  army  at  Fiesole  was 
an  open  fact,  and  any  day  might  bring  news  that  he 
was  on  the  march  to  Rome.  The  Senate,  as  usual  in 
extreme  emergencies,  declared  the  State  in  danger, 
and  gave  the  consuls  unlimited  powers  to  provide  for 
public  security.  So  scornfully  confident  was  Catiline, 
that  he  offered  to  place  himself  under  surveillance  at 
the  house  of  any  senator  whom  Cicero  might  name, 
or  to  reside  with  Cicero  himself,  if  the  consul  pre- 
ferred to  keep  a  personal  eye  upon  him.  Cicero  an- 
swered that  he  dared  not  trust  himself  with  so  peril- 
ous a  guest. 


The  Catiline  Conspiracy,  149 

So  for  a  few  days  matters  hung  in  suspense,  Man- 
lius  expecting  an  order  to  advance,  Catiline  November 
waiting  apparently  for  a  spontaneous  insur-  ^-  ^"  ^^• 
rection  in  the  city  before  he  gave  the  word.  In- 
tended attempts  at  various  points  had  been  baffled 
by  Cicero's  precautions.  At  last,  finding  that  the 
people  remained  quiet,  Catiline  called  a  meeting  of 
his  friends  one  stormy  night  at  the  beginning  of  No- 
vember, and  it  was  agreed  that  two  of  the  party 
should  go  the  next  morning  at  dawn  to  Cicero's 
house,  demand  to  see  him  on  important  business,  and 
kill  him  in  his  bed.  Curius,  who  was  present,  im- 
mediately furnished  Cicero  with  an  account  of  what 
had  passed.  When  his  morning  visitors  arrived,  they 
were  told  that  they  could  not  be  admitted ;  and  a 
summons  was  sent  round  to  the  senators  to  assem- 
ble immediately  at  the  Temple  of  Jupiter  Stator  — 
one  of  the  strongest  positions  in  the  city.^  The  au- 
dacious Catiline  attended,  and  took  his  usual  seat; 
every  one  shrank  from  him,  and  he  was  left  alone  on 
the' bench.  Then  Cicero  rose.  In  the  Senate,  where 
to  speak  was  the  first  duty  of  man,  he  was  in  his 
proper  element,  and  had  abundant  courage.  He  ad- 
dressed himself  personally  to  the  principal  conspira- 
tor. He  exposed,  if  exposure  be  the  fitting  word 
when  half  the  persons  present  knew  as  much  as  he 
could  tell  them,  the  history  of  Catiline's  proceedings. 
He  described,  in  detail,  the  meeting  of  the  past  even- 
ing, looking  round  perhaps  in  the  faces  of  the  sena- 
tors, who,  he  was  aware,  had  been  present  at  it.  He 
epoke  of  the  visit  designed  to  himself  in  the  morning, 
which  had  been  baffled  by  his  precautions.  He  wont 
back  over  the  history  of  the  preceding  half-century. 

1  "  In  loco  munitissimo." 


.1 50  Coesar, 

Fresh  from  the  defence  of  Rabirius,  he  showed  how 
dangerous  citizens,  the  Gracchi,  Saturninus,  Glaucia, 
had  been  satisfactorily  killed  when  they  were  medita- 
ting mischief.  He  did  not  see  that  a  constitution  was 
already  doomed,  when  the  ruling  powers  were  driven 
to  assassinate  their  opponents,  because  a  trial  with 
the  forms  of  law  would  have  ended  in  their  acquittal. 
He  told  Catiline  that,  under  the  powers  which  the 
Senate  had  conferred  on  him,  he  might  order  his  in- 
stant execution.  He  detailed  Catiline's  past  enormi- 
ties, which  he  had  forgotten  when  he  sought  his 
friendship,  and  he  ended  in  bidding  him  leave  the 
city,  go,  and  join  Manlius  and  his  army. 

Never  had  Cicero  been  greater,  and  never  did  ora- 
tory end  in  a  more  absurd  conclusion.  He  dared 
not  arrest  Catiline.  He  confessed  that  he  dared  not. 
There  was  not  a  doubt  that  Catiline  was  meditating 
a  revolution  —  but  a  revolution  was  precisely  what 
half  the  world  was  wishing  for.  Rightly  read,  those 
Bounding  paragraphs,  those  moral  denunciations,  those 
appeals  to  history  and  patriotic  sentiment,  were  the 
funeral  knell  of  the  Roman  Commonwealth. 

Let  Catiline  go  into  open  war,  Cicero  said,  and 
then  there  would  no  longer  be  a  doubt.  Then  all 
the  world  would  admit  his  treason.  Catiline  went ; 
and  what  was  to  follow  next  ?  Antonius,  the  second 
consul,  was  notoriously  not  to  be  relied  on.  The 
other  conspirators,  senators  who  sat  listening  while 
Cicero  poured  out  his  eloquent  indignation,  remained 
still  in  the  city  with  the  threads  of  insurrection  in 
their  hands,  and  were  encouraged  to  persevere  by  the 
evident  helplessness  of  the  government.  The  imper- 
fect record  of  history  retains  for  us  only  the  actions 
of  a  few  individuals  whom  special  talent  or  special 


The  Catiline  Conspiracy.  151 

circumstances  distinguislied,  and  sucli  information  is 
only  fragmentary.  We  lose  siglit  of  the  unnamed 
seething  multitudes  by  whose  desires  and  by  whose 
hatreds  the  stream  of  events  was  truly  guided.  The 
party  of  revolution  was  as  various  as  it  was  wide. 
Powerful  wealthy  men  belonged  to  it,  who  were  po- 
litically dissatisfied  ;  ambitious  men  of  rank,  whose 
money  embarrassments  weighted  them  in  the  race 
against  their  competitors  ;  old  officers  and  soldiers  of 
Sylla,  who  had  spent  the  fortunes  which  they  had 
won  by  violence,  and  were  now  trying  to  bring  him 
back  from  the  dead  to  renew  their  lease  of  plunder ; 
ruined  wretches  without  number,  broken  down  with 
fines  and  proscriptions,  and  debts  and  the  accumula- 
tion of  usurious  interest.  Add  to  these  "  the  danger- 
ous classes,"  the  natural  enemies  of  all  governments : 
parricides,  adulterers,  thieves,  forgers,  escaped  slaves, 
brigands,  and  pirates  who  had  lost  their  occupation  ; 
and,  finally,  Catiline's  own  chosen  comrades,  the 
smooth-faced  patrician  youths  with  curled  hair  and 
redolent  of  perfumes,  as  yet  beardless  or  with  the 
first  down  upon  their  chins,  wearing  scarfs  and  veils 
and  sleeved  tunics  reaching  to  their  ankles,  industri- 
ous but  only  with  the  dice-box,  night  watchers  but 
in  the  supper  rooms,  in  the  small  hours  before  dawn, 
immodest,  dissolute  boys,  whose  education  had  been 
in  learning  to  love  and  to  be  loved,  to  sing  and  to 
dance  naked  at  the  midnight  orgies,  and  along  with 
it  to  handle  poniards  and  mix  poisoned  bowls. ^ 

1  This  description  of  the  young  Roman  aristocracy  is  given  b}'  Cicero  in 
his  most  powerful  vein:  *'  Postreinum  autem  genus  est,  non  solum  numero, 
verum  etiam  genere  ipso  atque  vita,  quod  proprium  est  Catilinaa,  de  ejus 
deloctu,  immo  vero  de  complexu  ejus  ac  sinu;  quos  pexo  capillo,  nitidos, 
aut  imberbes,  aut  bene  barbatos,  videtis,  nianicatis  et  talaribus  tunicis; 
velis  aniictos,  non  togis:  quorum  omnis  industria  vitse  et  vigilandi  labor 
in  antelucanis  ccenis  expromltur.     In  his  gregibus  oranes  aleatores,  omnea 


152  Ccesar, 

Well  might  Cicero  be  alarmed  at  such  a  combina- 
tion ;  well  might  he  say,  that  if  a  generation  of  such 
youths  lived  to  manhood,  there  would  be  a,  common^ 
wealth  of  Catilines.  But  what  was  to  be  thought  of 
the  prospects  of  a  society  in  which  such  phenomena 
were  developing  themselves?  Cicero  bade  them  all 
go, — follow  their  chief  into  the  war,  and  perish  in 
the  snow  of  the  Apennines.  But  how,  if  they  would 
not  go  ?  How,  if  from  the  soil  of  Rome  under  the 
rule  of  his  friends  the  Senate,  fresh  crops  of  such 
youths  would  rise  perennially  ?  The  Commonwealth 
needed  more  drastic  medicine  than  eloquent  exhorta- 
tions, however  true  the  picture  might  be. 

None  of  the  promising  young  gentlemen  took 
Cicero's  advice.  Catiline  went  alone,  and  joined  Man- 
lius,  and  had  he  come  on  at  once  he  might  perhaps 
have  taken  Rome.  The  army  was  to  support  an  in- 
surrection, and  the  insurrection  was  to  support  the 
army.  Catiline  waited  for  a  signal  from  his  friends 
in  the  city,  and  Lentulus,  Cethegus,  Autronius,  and 
the  rest  of  the  leaders  waited  for  Catiline  to  arrive. 
Conspirators  never  think  that  they  have  taken  pre- 
cautions enough,  or  have  gained  allies  enough  ;  and  in 
endeavoring  to  secure  fresh  support,  they  made  a 
fatal  mistake.  An  embassy  of  Allobroges  was  in  the 
city,  a  frontier  tribe  on  the  borders  of  the  Roman  pro- 
vince in  Gaul,  who  were  allies  of  Rome,  though  not 
as  yet  subjects.  The  Gauls  were  the  one  foreign 
nation  whom  the  Romans  really  feared.     The  passes 

A^uiteii,  omnes  impuri  impudicique  versantur.     Hi  pueri  tarn  lepid,i  ac 
delicati  nop  soUnp  auiare  et  amari  neque  cantare  et  saltare,  sed  etiam  sicas 

vibrare  et  spargere  venena  dk|icerimt Niidi  in  conviviis  saltere 

didicerunt."  — In  Catilinam,  ii.  10.     CoiTjp^re  In  Pisontm,  10. 

The  Romans  shaved  their  beards  at  full  maturity,  and  therefore  "  bene 
barbatos"  does  not  mean  grown  men,  but  youths  on  the  edge  0,1  pian- 
t»ood.  ^ 


The  Catiline  Conspiracy.  153 

of  tlie  Alps  alone  protected  Italy  from  the  hordes  of 
German  or  Gallic  barbarians,  whose  numbers  being 
unknown  were  supposed  to  be  exhaustless.  Middle- 
aged  men  could  still  remember  the  panic  at  the  inva- 
sion of  the  Cimbri  and  Teutons,  and  it  was  the  chief 
pride  of  the  democrats  that  the  State  had  then  been 
saved  by  their  own  Marius.  At  the  critical  moment 
it  was  discovered  that  the  conspirators  had  entered 
into  a  correspondence  with  these  Allobroges,  and  had 
actually  proposed  to  them  to  make  a  fresh  inroad 
over  the  Alps.  The  suspicion  of  such  an  intention 
at  once  alienated  from  Catiline  the  respectable  part 
of  the  democratic  party.  The  fact  of  the  communi- 
cation was  betrayed  to  Cicero.  He  intercepted  the 
letters ;  he  produced  them  in  the  Senate  with  the  seals 
unbroken,  that  no  suspicion  might  rest  upon  himself. 
Lentulus  and  Cethegus  were  sent  for,  and  could  not 
deny  their  hands.  The  letters  were  then  opened  and 
read,  and  no  shadow  of  uncertainty  any  longer  re- 
mained that  they  had  really  designed  to  bring  in  an 
army  of  Gauls.  Such  of  the  conspirators  as  were 
known  and  were  still  within  reach  were  instantly 
Beized. 

Cicero,  with  a  pardonable  laudation  of  hiuiself  and 
of  the  Divine  Providence  of  which  he  professed  to  re- 
gard hmirtelf  as  the  minister,  congratulated  his  coun- 
try on  its  escape  from  so  genuine  a  danger  ;  and  he 
then  invited  the  Senate  to  say  what  was  to  be  done 
with  these  apostates  from  their  order,  whose  treason 
was  now  demonstrated.  A  plot  for  a  mere  change  of 
government,  for  the  deposition  of  the  aristocrats, 
and  the  return  to  power  of  the  popular  party,  it 
might  be  impolitic,  perhaps  impossible,  severely  to 
punish  ,  but  Catiline  and  his  friends  had  planned  the 


154  Ccesar, 

betrayal  of  the  State  to  the  barbarians ;  and  with  per- 
sons who  had  committed  themselves  to  national  trea- 
son there  was  no  occasion  to  hesitate.  Cicero  pro- 
duced the  list  of  those  whom  he  considered  guilty, 
and  there  were  some  among  his  friends  who  thought 
the  opportunity  might  be  used  to  get  rid  of  danger- 
ous enemies,  after  the  fashion  of  Sylla,  especially  of 
Crassus  and  Caesar.  The  name  of  Crassus  was  first 
mentioned,  some  said  by  secret  friends  of  Catiline, 
who  hoped  to  alarm  the  Senate  into  inaction  by  show- 
ing with  whom  they  would  have  to  deal.  Crassus, 
it  is  possible,  knew  more  than  he  had  told  the  con- 
sul. Catiline's  success  had,  at  one  moment,  seemed 
assured  ;  and  great  capitalists  are  apt  to  insure  against 
contingencies.  But  Cicero  moved  and  carried  a  reso- 
lution that  the  charge  against  him  was  a  wicked  in- 
vention. The  attempt  against  Caesar  was  more  deter- 
mined. Old  Catulus,  whom  Caesar  had  defeated  in 
the  contest  for  the  pontificate,  and  Caius  Calpur- 
nius  Piso,i  a  bitter  aristocrat,  whom  Caesar  had  pros- 
ecuted for  misgovernment  in  Gaul,  urged  Cicero  to 
include  his  name.  But'  Cicero  was  too  honorable  to 
lend  himself  to  an  accusation  which  he  knew  to  be 
December,  f^lsc.  Somc  of  the  young  lords  in  their  dis- 
&,  B.  c.  63,  appointment  threatened  Caesar  at  the  sen- 
ate-house door  with  their  swords ;  but  the  attack 
missed  its  mark,  and  served  only  to  show  how 
dreaded  Caesar  already  was,  and  how  eager  a  desire 
there  was  to  make  an  end  of  him. 

The  list  submitted  for  judgment  contained  the 
names  of  none  but  those  who  were  indisputably 
guilty.     The   Senate  voted  at  once  that   they  were 

1  Not  to  be  confounded  with  Lucius  Calpurnius  Piso,  who  was  Cjcsar'a 
father-in-law. 


The  Catiline  Oonspiraey.  155 

traitors  to  the  State.  The  next  question  was  of  the 
nature  of  their  punishment.  In  the  first  place  the 
persons  of  public  officers  were  sacred,  and  Lentulus 
was  at  the  time  a  praetor.  And  next  the  Serapronian 
law  forbade  distinctly  that  any  Roman  citizen  should 
be  put  to  death  without  a  trial,  and  without  the  right 
of  appeal  to  the  assembly.^  It  did  not  mean  simply 
that  Roman  citizens  were  not  to  be  murdered,  or  that 
at  any  time  it  had  been  supposed  that  they  might. 
The  object  was  to  restrain  the  extraordinary  power 
claimed  by  the  Senate  of  setting  the  laws  aside  on 
exceptional  occasions.  Silanus,  the  consul-elect  for 
the  following  year,  was,  according  to  usage,  asked 
to  give  his  opinion  first.  He  voted  for  immediate 
death.  One  after  the  other  the  voices  were  the  same, 
till  the  turn  came  of  Tiberius  Nero,  the  great-grand- 
father of  Nero  the  Emperor.  Tiberius  was  against 
haste.  He  advised  that  the  prisoners  should  be  kept 
in  confinement  till  Catiline  was  taken  or  killed,  and 
that  the  whole  affair  should  then  be  carefully  inves- 
tigated. Investigation  was  perhaps  what  many  sena- 
tors were  most  anxious  to  avoid.  When  Tiberius 
had  done,  Caesar  rose.  The  speech  which  Sallust 
places  in  his  mouth  was  not  an  imaginary  sketch  of 
what  Sallust  supposed  him  likely  to  have  said,  but 
the  version  generally  received  of  what  he  actually  did 
say,  and  the  most  important  passages  of  it  are  cer- 
tainly authentic.  For  the  first  time  we  see  through 
the  surface  of  CsBsar's  outward  actions  into  his  real 
mind.  During  the  three  quarters  of  a  century  which 
had  passed  since  the  death  of  the  elder  Gracchus  one 
political  murder  had  followed  upon  another.  Every 
conspicuous  democrat  had  been 'killed  by  the  aristo- 

1  "Injussu  populi." 


156  Ccesar, 

crats  in  some  convenient  disturbance.  No  constitu- 
tion could  survive  when  the  law  was  habituall}^  set 
aside  by  violence  ;  and  disdaining  the  suspicion  with 
which  he  knew  that  his  words  would  be  regarded, 
Caesar  warned  the  Senate  against  another  act  of  pre- 
cipitate anger  which  would  be  unlawful  in  itself,  un- 
"W^orthy  of  their  dignity,  and  likely  in  the  future  to 
throw  a  doubt  upon  the  guilt  of  the  men  upon  whose 
fate  they  were  deliberating.  He  did  not  extenuate, 
he  rather  emphasized,  the  criminality  of  Catiline  and 
his  confederates  ;  but  for  that  reason  and  because  for 
the  present  no  reasonable  person  felt  the  slightest  un- 
certaint}'^  about  it,  he  advised  them  to  keep  within 
the  lines  which  the  law  had  marked  out  for  them. 
He  spoke  with  respect  of  Silanus.  He  did  not  sup- 
pose him  to  be  influenced  by  feelings  of  party  ani- 
mosity. Silanus  had  recommended  the  execution  of 
the  prisoners,  either  because  he  thought  their  lives  in- 
compatible with  the  safety  of  tlie  State,  or  because 
no  milder  punishment  seemed  adequate  to  the  enor- 
mit}^  of  their  conduct.  But  the  safety  of  the  State, 
he  said,  with  a  compliment  to  Cicero,  had  been  suffi- 
ciently provided  for  by  the  diligence  of  the  consul. 
As  to  punishment,  none  could  be  too  severe ;  but 
with  that  remarkable  adherence  to /<ifcf,  which  always 
distinguished  Caesar,  that  repudiation  of  illusion  and 
Bincere  utterance  of  his  real  belief,  whatever  tliat 
might  be,  he  contended  that  death  was  net  a  punish- 
ment at  all.  Death  was  the  end  of  human  suffer- 
ing. In  the  grave  there  was  neither  joy  nor  sorrow. 
When  a  man  was  dead  he  ceased  to  be.^    He  became 

1   The  real  opinion  of  educated  Romans  on  this  subject  was  expressed  in 
the  well-known  lines  of  Lucretius,  which  were  probably  written  near  this 

rer^^  time  : 

"  Nil  igitur  mors  est,  ad  nos  neque  pertinet  hilum, 
Quaudoquidem  catura  auimi  mortalis  habetur : 


The  Catiline  Conspiracy,  167 

as  he  had  been  before  he  was  born.  Probably  al- 
most every  one  in  the  Senate  thought  like  Caesar  on 
this  subject.  Cicero  certainly  did.  The  only  differ- 
ence was,  that  plausible  statesmen  affected  a  respect 
for  the  popular  superstition,  and  pretended  to  believe 
what  they  did  not  believe.  Caesar  spoke  his  convic- 
tions out.  There  was  no  longer  any  solemnity  in  an 
execution.  It  was  merely  the  removal  out  of  the 
way  of  troublesome  persons ;  and  convenient  as  such  a 
method  might  be,  it  was  of  graver  consequence  that 
the  Senate  of  Rome,  the  guardians  of  the  law,  should 
not  set  an  example  of  violating  the  law.  Illegality, 
Caesar  told  them,  would  be  followed  by  greater  ille- 
galities. He  reminded  them  how  they  had  applauded 
Sylla,  how  they  had  rejoiced  when  they  saw  their 
political  enemies  summarily  dispatched  ;  and  yet  the 
proscription,  as  they  well  knew,  had  been  perverted 
to  the  license  of  avarice  and  private  revenge.  They 
might  feel  sure  that  no  such  consequence  need  be 
feared  under  their  present  consul :  but  times  might 
change.  The  worst  crimes  which  had  been  com- 
mitted in  Rome  in  the  past  century  had  risen  out  of 
the  imitation  of  precedents,  which  at  the  moment 
seemed  defensible.  The  laws  had  prescribed  a  defi- 
nite punishment  for  treason.  Those  laws  had  been 
gravely  considered ;  they  had  been  enacted  by  the 

Et,  Telut  ante  acto  nil  tempore  sensimus  aegri, 
Ad  confligendum  Tenientibus  undique  Poenia ; 
Omnia  cum  belli  trepido  concussa  tumultu, 
Ilorrida,  contremuere  sub  altis  tetheris  auris  ; 
In  dubioque  fuit  sub  utrorum  regna  cadendum 
Omnibus  humanis  esset,  terrSique,  marique  : 
Sic,  ubi  non  erimua,  cum  corporis  atque  animai 
Discidium  f  uerit,  quibus  e  sumus  uuiter  apti, 
Scilicet  baud  nobis  quicquam,  qui  non  erimus  turn, 
Accidere  omnio  poterit,  sensumque  movere  : 
Non,  si  terra  marl  miscebitur,  et  mare  coelo," 

LuoBxiius  lib.iii   U.  842-864. 


158  Cmar, 

great  men  who  had  built  up  the  Roman  dominion, 
and  were  not  to  be  set  aside  in  impatient  haste. 
Csesar  therefore  recommended  that  the  estates  of  the 
conspirators  should  be  confiscated,  that  they  them- 
selves should  'be  kept  in  strict  and  solitary  confine- 
ment dispersed  in  various  places,  and  that  a  resolu- 
tion should  be  passed  forbidding  an  application  for 
their  pardon  either  to  Senate  or  people. 

The  speech  was  weighty  in  substance  and  weight- 
ily delivered,  and  it  produced  its  effect.^  Silanus 
withdrew  his  opinion.  Quintus  Cicero,  the  consul's 
brother,  followed,  and  a  clear  majority  of  the  Senate 
went  with  them,  till  it  came  to  the  turn  of  a  young 
man  who  in  that  year  had  taken  his  place  in  the  house 
for  the  first  time,  who  was  destined  to  make  a  repu- 
tation which  could  be  set  in  competition  with  that  of 
the  gods  themselves,  and  whose  moral  opinion  could 
be  held  superior  to  that  of  the  gods.^ 

Marcus  Fortius  Cato  was  born  in  the  year  95,  and 
was  thus  five  years  younger  than  Caesar  and  eleven 
years  younger  than  Cicero.  He  was  the  great-grand- 
son, as  was  said  above,  of  the  stern  rugged  Censor  who 
hated  Greek,  preferred  the  teaching  of  the  plough- 
tail  and  the  Twelve  Tables  to  the  philosophy  of  Aris- 

1  In  the  following  century  when  Caesar's  life  had  become  mythic,  a  story 
was  current  that  Avhen  Caesar  was  speaking  on  this  occasion  a  note  was 
brought  in  to  him,  and  Cato,  suspecting  that  it  referred  to  the  conspiracy, 
insisted  that  it  should  be  read.  Caesar  handed  it  to  Cato,  and  it  proved  to 
be  a  love  letter  from  Cato's  sister,  Servilia,  the  mother  of  Brutus.  Mere 
will  be  said  of  the  supposed  liaison  between  Ciesar  and  Servilia  hereafter. 
For  the  present  it  is  enough  to  say  that  there  is  no  contemporary  evidence 
for  the  story  at  all;  and  that  if  it  be  true  that  a  note  of  some  kind  from 
Servilia  was  given  to  Coesar,  it  is  more  consistent  with  probability  and  the 
other  circumstances  of  the  case,  that  it  was  an  innocent  note  of  business. 
Ladies  do  not  send  in  compromising  letters  to  their  lovers  when  tliey  are  on 
their  feet  in  Parliament;  nor,  if  such  an  accident  sliould  happen,  do  the 
(overs  pass  them  over  to  be  read  by  the  ladies'  brothers. 

a  "  Victrix  causa  Deis  placuit,  sed  victa  Catoni."  —  Lucan. 


The  Catilme  Conspiracy.  159 

fcotle,  disbelieved  in  progress,  and  held  by  the  maxims 
of  his  father  —  the  last,  he,  of  the  Romans  of  the  old 
type.  The  young  Marcus  affected  to  take  his  ances- 
tor for  a  pattern.  He  resembled  him  as  nearly  as  a 
modern  Anglican  monk  resembles  St.  Francis  or  St. 
Bernard.  He  could  reproduce  the  form,  but  it  was 
the  form  with  the  life  gone  out  of  it.  He  was  im- 
meaaiirably  superior  to  the  men  around  him.  He  was 
virtuous,  if  it  be  virtue  to  abstain  from  sin.  He  never 
lied.  No  one  ever  suspected  him  of  dishonesty  or 
corruption.  But  his  excellences  were  not  of  the  re- 
tiring sort.  He  carried  them  written  upon  him  in  let- 
ters for  all  to  read,  as  a  testimony  to  a  wicked  gen- 
eration. His  opinions  were  as  pedantic  as  his  life  was 
abstemious,  and  no  one  was  permitted  to  differ  from 
him  without  being  held  guilty  rather  of  a  crime  than 
of  a  mistake.  He  was  an  aristocratic  pedant,  to  whom 
the  living  forces  of  humanity  seemed  but  irrational 
impulses  of  which  he  and  such  as  he  were  the  ap- 
pointed school-masters.  To  such  a  temperament  a 
man  of  genius  is  instinctively  hateful.  Cato  had 
spoken  often  in  the  Senate,  though  so  young  a  mem- 
ber of  it,  denouncing  the  immoral  habits  of  the  age. 
He  now  rose  to  match  himself  against  Csesar ;  and  with 
passionate  vehemence  he  insisted  that  the  wretches 
wlio  had  plotted  the  overthrow  of  the  State  should  be 
immediately  killed.  He  noticed  Caesar's  objections 
only  to  irritate  the  suspicion  in  which  he  probably 
shared,  that  Csesar  himself  was  one  of  Catiline's  ac- 
complices. That  Caesar  had  urged  as  a  reason  for 
moderation  the  absence  of  immediate  danger,  was  in 
Cato's  opinion  an  argument  the  more  for  anxiety. 
Naturally,  too,  he  did  not  miss  the  opportunity  of 
striking  at  the  scepticism  which  questioned  future  xvt- 


160  Ccesar. 

ribution.  Whether  Cato  believed  himself  in  a  future 
life  mattered  little,  if  Caesar's  frank  avowal  could  be 
turned  to  his  prejudice. 

Cato  spoke  to  an  audience  well  disposed  to  go  with 
him.  Silanus  went  round  to  his  first  view,  and  the 
mass  of  senators  followed  him.  Csesar  attempted  to 
reply ;  but  so  tierce  were  tlie  passions  that  had  been 
roused,  that  again  he  was  in  danger  of  violence.  The 
young  knights  who  were  present  as  a  senatorial  guard 
rushed  at  him  with  their  drawn  swords.  A  few 
friends  protected  him  with  their  cloaks,  and  he  left 
the  Curia  not  to  enter  it  again  for  the  rest  of  the  year. 
When  Caesar  was  gone,  Cicero  rose  to  finish  the  de- 
bate. He  too  glanced  at  Csesar's  infidelity,  and  as 
Caesar  had  spoken  of  the  wisdom  of  past  generations, 
he  observed  that  in  the  same  generations  there  had 
been  a  pious  belief  that  the  grave  was  not  the  end  of 
human  existence.  With  an  ironical  compliment  to 
the  prudence  of  Caesar's  advice,  he  said  that  his  own 
interest  would  lead  him  to  follow  it;  he  would  have 
the  less  to  fear  from  the  irritation  of  the  people.  The 
Senate,  he  observed,  must  have  heard  with  pleasure 
that  Ca3sar  condemned  the  conspiracy.  Ca3sar  was 
the  leader  of  the  popular  party,  and  from  him  at  least 
they  now  knew  that  they  had  nothing  to  fear.  The 
punishment  which  Caesar  recommended  was,  in  fact, 
Cicero  admitted,  more  severe  than  death.  He  trusted, 
therefore,  that  if  the  conspirators  were  executed,  and 
he  had  to  answer  to  the  people  for  the  sentence  to  be 
passed  upon  them,  C^sar  himself  would  defend  hiui 
against  the  charge  of  cruelty.  Meanwhile  lie  said 
that  he  had  the  ineffable  satisfaction  of  knowing  that 
he  had  saved  the  State.  The  Senate  might  adopt 
Bueh  resolutions  as  might  seem  good  to  them  Avithout 


The  Catiline  Conspiracy,  161 

alarm  for  the  consequences.  The  conspiracy  was  dis- 
armed. He  had  made  enemies  among  the  bad  citi- 
zens ;  but  he  had  deserved  and  he  had  won  the  grati- 
tude of  the  good,  and  he  stood  secure  behind  the 
impregnable  bulwark  of  his  country*s  love. 

So  Cicero,  in  the  first  effusion  of  self-admir^tion 
with  which  he  never  ceased  to  regard  his  conduct  on 
this  occasion.  No  doubt  he  had  acted  bravely,  and  he 
had  shown  as  much  adroitness  as  courage.  But  the 
whole  truth  was  never  told.  The  Senate's  anxiety  to 
execute  the  prisoners  arose  from  a  fear  that  the  peo- 
ple would  be  against  them  if  an  appeal  to  the  assem- 
bly was  allowed.  The  Senate  was  contending  for 
the  privilege  of  suspending  the  laws  by  its  own  in- 
dependent will ;  and  the  privilege,  if  it  was  ever  con- 
stitutional, had  become  so  odious  by  the  abuse  of  il, 
that  to  a  large  section  of  Roman  citizens,  a  conspir- 
acy against  the  oligarchy  had  ceased  to  be  looked  on 
as  treason  at  all.  Cicero  and  Cato  had  their  way. 
Lentulus,  Cethegus,  Autronius,  and  their  companions 
were  strangled  in  their  cells,  on  the  afternoon  of  the 
debate  upon  their  fate.  A  few  weeks  later  Catiline's 
army  was  cut  to  pieces,  and  he  himself  was  killed. 
So  desperately  his  haggard  bands  had  fought  that 
they  fell  in  their  ranks  where  they  stood,  and  never 
Roman  commander  gained  a  victory  that  cost  him 
more  dear.  So  furious  a  resistance  implied  a  motive 
and  a  purpose  beyond  any  which  Cicero  or  Sallust  re- 
cords, and  the  commission  of  inquiry  suggested  by 
Tiberius  Nero  in  the  Senate  might  have  led  to  curious 
revelations.  The  Senate  perhaps  had  its  own  reasons 
for  fearing  such  revelations,  and  for  wishing  the 
voices  closed  which  could  have  made  them. 
11 


CHAPTER  XII. 

The  execution  of  Lentulus  and  Cethegus  was  re- 
ceived in  Rome  with  the  feelinej  which  Cae- 
B.  c.  62.  .  .  ° 

sar  had  anticipated.     There  was  no  active 

sympathy  with  the  conspiracy,  but  the  conspiracy 
was  forgotten  in  indignation  at  the  lawless  action  of 
the  consul  and  the  Senate.  It  was  still  violence  — 
always  violence.  Was  law,  men  asked,  never  to  re- 
sume its  authority  ? — was  the  Senate  to  deal  at  its 
pleasure  with  the  lives  and  properties  of  citizens  ?  — 
criminals  though  they  might  be,  what  right  had  Cic- 
ero to  strangle  citizens  in  dungeons  without  trial  ? 
If  this  was  to  be  allowed,  the  constitution  was  at  an 
end;  Rome  was  no  longer  a  Republic,  but  an  arbi- 
trary oligarchy.  Pompey's  name  was  on  every  tongu,e. 
When  would  Pompey  come  ?  Pompey,  the  friend 
of  the  people,  the  terror  of  the  aristocracy  !  Pom- 
pey, who  had  cleared  the  sea  of  pirates,  and  doubled 
the  area  of  the  Roman  dominions!  Let  Pompey  re- 
turn and  bring  his  army  with  him^,  and  give  to  Rome 
the  same  peace  and  order  which  he  had  already  given 
to  the  world. 

A  Roman  commander,  on  landing  in  Italy  after 
foreign  service,  was  expected  to  disband  his  legions, 
and  relapse  into  the  position  of  a  private  person.  A 
popular  and  successful  general  was  an  object  of  in- 
stinctive fear  to  the  politicians  who  held  the  reins  of 
government.  The  Senate  was  never  pleased  to  see 
any  individual  too  much  an  object  of  popular  idol- 


Preparations  for  Pompey^s  Return.         163 

atry  ;  and  in  the  case  of  Pompey  their  suspicion  was 
the  greater,  on  account  of  the  greatness  of  his  achieve- 
ments, and  because  his  command  had  been  forced 
upon  them  by  the  people,  against  their  wilL  In  the 
absence  of  a  garrison,  the  city  was  at  tlie  mercy  of 
the  patricians  and  their  clients.  That  the  noble  lords 
were  unscrupulous  in  removing  persons  whom  they 
disliked  they  had  shown  in  a  hundred  instances,  and 
Pompey  naturally  enough  hesitated  to  trust  himfeelf 
among  them  without  security.  He  required  the  pro- 
tection" of  office,  and  he  had  sent  forward  one  of  his 
most  distinguished  officers,  Metellus  Nepos,  to  pre- 
pare the  way  and  demand  the  consulship  for  him. 
Metellus,  to  strengthen  his  hands,  had  stood  for  the 
tribuneship ;  and,  in  spite  of  the  utmost  efforts  of  the 
aristocracy,  had  been  elected.  It  fell  to  Metellus  to 
be  the  first  to  give  expression  to  the  general  indig- 
nation in  a  way  peculiarly  wounding  to  the  illustrious 
consul.  Cicero  imagined  that  the  world  looked  upon 
him  as  its  saviour.  In  his  own  eyes  he  was  another 
Romulus,  a  second  founder  of  Rome.  The  world,  un- 
fortunately, had  formed  an  entirely  ^different  estimate 
of  him.  The  prisoners  had  been  killed  on  the  5th  of 
December.  On  the  last  day  of  the  year  it  was  usual 
for  the  outgoing  consuls  to  review  the  events  of  their 
term  of  office  before  the  Senate ;  and  Cicero  had  pre- 
pared a  speech  in  which  he  had  gilded  his  own  per- 
formances ■  with  all  his  eloquence.  Metellus  com- 
men'";ed  his  tribunate  with  forbidding  Cicero  to  de- 
liver his  oration,  and  forbidding  him  on  the  special 
ground,  that  a  man  who  had  put  Roman  citizens  to  . 
de-ath  without  allowing  them  a  hearing,  did  not  him- 
self deserve  to  be  heard.  In  the  midst  of  the  confu- 
«ion  and  uproar  which  followed,  Cicero  could  only 


164  Ccesar. 

Bbriek  that  he  had  saved  his  country  :  a  declaration 
which  could  have  been  dispensed  with  since  he  had 
so  often  insisted  upon  it  already  without  producing 
the  assent  which  he  desired. 

Notwithstanding  his  man}'^  fine  qualities,  Cicero  was 
wanting  in  dignity.  His  vanity  was  wounded  in  :ts 
tenderest  point,  and  he  attacked  Metellus  a  day  or 
two  after,  in  one  of  those  violentl}^  abusive  outpour- 
ings, of  which  so  many  specimens  of  his  own  survive, 
and  which  happily  so  few  other  statesmen  attempted 
to  imitate.  Metellus  retorted  with  a  threat  of  im- 
peaching Cicero,  and  the  grave  Roman  Curia  became 
no  better  than  a  kennel  of  mad  dogs.  For  days  the 
storm  raged  on  with  no  symptom  of  abatement.  At 
last,  Metellus  turned  to  the  people  and  proposed  in 
the  assembly  that  Pompey  should  be  recalled  with 
his  army  to  restore  law  and  order. 

Csesar,  who  was  now  prastor,  warmly  supported 
Metellus.  To  him,  if  to  no  one  else,  it  was  clear  as 
the  sun  at  noonday,  that  unless  some  better  govern- 
ment could  be  provided  than  could  be  furnished  by 
five  hundred  such  gentlemen  as  the  Roman  senators, 
the  State  was  drifting  on  to  destruction.  Resolutions 
to  be  submitted  to  the  people  were  generally  first 
drawn  in  writing,  and  were  read  from  the  Rostra. 
When  Metellus  produced  his  proposal,  Cato,  who  was 
a  tribune  also,  sprang  to  his  side,  ordered  him  to  be 
silent,  and  snatched  the  scroll  out  of  his  hands.  Me- 
tellus went  on,  speaking  from  memory  :  Cato's  friends 
shut  his  mouth  by  force.  The  patricians  present 
drew  their  swords  and  cleared  the  Forum  ;  and  the 
Senate,  in  the  exercise  of  another  right  to  which  they 
protended,  declared  Caesar  and  Metellus  degraded 
fron;  their  offices.     Metellus,  probably  at  Caesar's  ad- 


Scene  in  the  Assembly.  165 

vice,  withdrew  and  went  off  to  Asia,  to  describe  what 
had  passed  to  Pomj)ey.  Csesar  remained,  and,  quietly- 
disregarding  the  Senate's  sentence,  continued  to  sit 
and  hear  cases  as  pra3tor.  His  court  was  forcibly 
closed.  He  yielded  to  violence  and  retired  under  pro- 
test, being  escorted  to  the  door  of  his  house  by  an 
enormous  multitude.  There  he  dismissed  his  lictors 
and  laid  aside  his  official  dress,  that  he  might  furnish 
no  excuse  for  a  charge  against  him  of  resisting  the 
established  authorities.  The  mob  refused  to  be  com- 
forted. They  gathered  day  after  day.  They  clus- 
tered about  the  pontifical  palace.  They  cried  to 
Csesar  to  place  himself  at  their  head,  that  they  might 
tear  down  the  senate  house,  and  turn  the  caitiffs  into 
the  street.  Csesar  neither  then  nor  ever  lent  him- 
self to  popular  excesses.  He  reminded  the  citizens 
that  if  others  broke  the  law,  they  must  themselves 
set  an  example  of  obeying  it,  and  he  bade  them  re- 
turn to  their  homes. 

Terrified  at  the  state  of  the  city,  and  penitent  for 
their  injustice  to  Csesar,  the  Senate  hurriedly  revoked 
their  decree  of  deposition,  sent  a  deputation  to  him 
to  apologize,  and  invited  him  to  resume  his  place 
among  them.  The  extreme  patrician  section  re- 
mained irreconcilable.  Csesar  complied,  but  only  to 
find  himself  denounced  again  with  passionate  perti- 
nacity as  having  been  an  accomplice  -of  Catiline. 
Witnesses  were  produced,  who  swore  to  having  seen 
his  signature  to  a  treasonable  bond.  Curius,  Cicero's 
spy,  declared  that  Catiline  himself  had  told  him  that 
C3esar  was  one  of  the  conspirators.  Csesar  treated 
the  charge  with  indignant  disdain.  He  appealed  to 
Cicero's  conscience,  and  Cicero  was  obliged  to  say 
that  he  had  derived  his  earliest  and  most  important 


166  Coemr. 

information  from  Csesar  himself.  The  most  violent 
of  his  accusers  were  placed  under  arrest.  The  in- 
formers, after  a  near  escape  from  being  massacred  by 
the  crowd,  were  thrown  into  prison,  and  for  the  mo- 
ment the  furious  heats  were  able  to  cool. 

All  eyes  were  now  turned  to  Pompey.  The  war 
in  Asia  was  over.  Pompey,  it  was  clear,  must  now 
return  to  receive  the  thanks  of  his  countrymen  ;  and 
as  he  had  triumphed  in  spite  of  the  aristocracy,  and 
as  his  victories  could  neither  be  denied  nor  undone, 
the  best  hope  of  the  Senate  was  to  win  him  over 
from  the  people,  and  to  prevent  a  union  between  him 
and  Caesar.  Through  all  the  recent  dissensions  Cae- 
sar had  thrown  his  weight  on  Pompey's  side.  He, 
with  Cicero,  had  urged  Pompey's  appointment  to 
his  successive  commands.  When  Cicero  went  over 
to  the  patricians,  Csesar  had  stood  by  Pompey's 
officers  against  the  fury  of  the  Senate,  Csesar  had 
the  people  behind  him,  and  Pompey  the  army.  Un- 
less in  some  way  an  apple  of  discord  could  be  thrown 
between  them,  the  t\vo  favorites  would  overshadow 
the  State,  and  the  Senate's  authority  would  be  gone. 
Nothing  could  be  done  for  the  moment  politically. 
Pompey  owed  his  position  to  the  democracy,  and  he 
was  too  great  as  yet  to  fear  Csesar  as  a.  rival  in  the 
Commonwealth.  On  the  personal  side  there  was 
better  hope.  Csesar  was  as  much  admired  in  the 
world  of  fashion  as  he  was  detested  in  the  Curia. 
lie  had  no  taste  for  the  brutal  entertainments  and 
more  brutal  vices  of  male  patrician  society.  He  pre- 
ferred the  companionship  of  cultivated  women,  and 
the  noble  lords  had  the  fresh  provocation  of  finding 
their  hated  antagonist  an  object  of  adoration  to  their 
wives   and   daughters.     Here,  at  any   rate-,  scandal 


Roman  Scandals.  167 

had  the  field  to  itself.  Caesar  was  accused  of  crimi- 
nal intimacy  with  many  ladies  of  the  highest  rank, 
and  Pompey  was  privately  informed  that  his  friend 
had  taken  advantage  of  liis  absence  to  seduce  his 
wife,  Mucia.  Pompey  was  Agamemnon  ;  Caesar  had 
been  iEgisthus  ;  and  Pompey  was  so  far  persuaded 
that  Mucia  had  been  unfaithful  to  him,  that  he  di- 
vorced her  before  his  return. 

Charges  of  this  kind  have  the  peculiar  advantage 
that  even  when  disproved  or  shown  to  be  manifestly 
absurd,  they  leave  a  stain  behind  them.  Careless 
equally  of  probability  and  decency,  the  leaders  of  the 
Senate  sacrificed  without  scruple  the  reputation  of 
their  own  relatives  if  only  they  could  make  Caesar 
odious.  The  name  of  Servilia  has  been  mentioned 
already.  Servilia  was  the  sister  of  Marcus  Cato  and 
the  mother  of  Marcus  Brutus.  She  was  a  woman  of 
remarkable  ability  and  character,  and  between  her 
and  Caesar  there  was  undoubtedly  a  close  acquaint- 
ance and  a  strong  mutual  affection.  The  world  dis- 
covered that  she  was  Csesar's  mistress,  and  that  Bru- 
tus was  his  son.  It  might  be  enough  to  say  that 
when  Brutus  was  born  Csesar  was  scarcely  fifteen 
years  old,  and  that,  if  a  later  intimacy  existed  be- 
tween them,  Brutus  knew  nothing  of  it  or  cared 
nothing  for  it.  When  he  stabbed  Caesar  at  last  it 
was  not  as  a  Hamlet  or  an  Orestes,  but  as  a  patriot 
sacrificing  his  dearest  friend  to  his  country.  The 
same  doubt  extends  to  the  other  supposed  victims  of 
Caesar's  seductiveness.  Names  were  mentioned  in 
the  following  century,  but  no  particulars  were  given. 
For  the  most  part  his  alleged  mistresses  were  the 
wives  of  men  who  remained  closely  attached  to  him 
notwithstanding.     The  report   of   his   intrigue  with 


168  Ccedar, 

Mucici  answered  its  immediate  purpose,  in  producing 
a  temporary  coldness  on  Pompey's  part  towards 
Csesar ;  but  Pompey  must  either  Lave  discovered  the 
story  to  be  false  or  else  have  condoned  it,  for  soon 
afterwards  he  married  Caesar's  daughter.  Two  points 
may  be  remarked  about  these  legends :  first,  that  on 
no  single  occasion  does  Csesar  appear  to  have  been 
involved  in  any  trouble  or  quarrel  on  account  of  his 
love  affairs ;  and  secondly,  that,  with  the  exception 
of  Brutus  and  of  CleojDatra's  Caesarion,  whose  claims 
to  be  Caesar's  son  were  denied  and  disproved,  there 
is  no  record  of  any  illegitimate  children  as  the  result 
of  these  amours  —  a  strange  thing  if  Csesar  was  as 
liberal  of  his  favors  as  popular  scandal  pretended. 
It  would  be  idle  to  affect  a  belief  that  Caesar  was  par- 
ticularly virtuous.  He  was  a  man  of  the  world,  liv- 
ing in  an  age  as  corrupt  as  has  been  ever  known.  It 
would  be  equally  idle  to  assume  that  all  the  ink  blots 
thrown  upon  him  were  certainly  deserved,  because 
we  find  them  in  books  which  we  call  classical.  Proof 
deserving  to  be  called  proof  there  is  none ;  and  the 
only  real  evidence  is  the  town  talk  of  a  society  which 
feared  and  hated  Csesar,  and  was  glad  of  every  pre- 
text to  injure  him  when  alive,  or  to  discredit  him 
after  his  death.  Similar  stories  have  been  spread, 
are  spread,  and  will  be  spread  of  every  man  who 
raises  himself  a  few  inches  above  the  level  of  his  fel- 
lows. We  know  how  it  is  with  our  contemporaries. 
A  single  seed  of  fact  will  produce  in  a  season  or  two 
a  harvest  of  calumnies,  and  sensible  men  pass  such 
things  by,  and  pay  no  attention  to  them.  With  his- 
tory we  are  less  careful  or  less  charitable.  An  accu- 
sation of  immorality  is  accepted  without  examination 
when  brought  against  eminent  persons  who  can  no 


Roman  Scandals,  169 

longer  defend  themselves,  and  to  raise  a  doubt  of  its 
truth  passes  as  a  sign  of  a  weak  understanding.  So 
let  it  be.  It  is  certain  that  Caesar's  contemporaries 
spread  rumors  of  a  variety  of  intrigues,  in  which  they 
said  that  he  was  concerned.  It  is  probable  that  some 
were  well  founded.  It  is  possible  that  all  were  well 
founded.  But  it  is  no  less  indubitable  that  they  rest 
on  evidence  which  is  not  evidence  at  all,  and  that  the 
most  innocent  intimacies  would  not  have  escaped  mis- 
representation from  the  venomous  tongues  of  Roman 
society.  Caesar  comes  into  court  with  a  fairer  char- 
acter than  those  whose  virtues  are  thought  to  over- 
shadow him.  Marriage,  which  under  the  ancient 
Romans  was  the  most  sacred  of  ties,  had  become  the 
lightest  and  the  loosest.  Cicero  divorced  Terentif 
when  she  was  old  and  ill-tempered,  and  married  a 
young  woman.  Cato  made  over  his  Marcia,  the 
mother  of  his  children,  to  his  friend  Hortensius,  and 
took  her  back  as  a  wealthy  widow  when  Hortensius 
died.  Pompey  put  away  his  first  wife  at  Sylla's  bid- 
ding, and  took  a  second  who  was  already  the  wife  of 
another  man.  Caesar,  when  little  more  than  a  boy, 
dared  the  Dictator's  displeasure  rather  than  conde- 
scend to  a  similar  compliance.  His  worst  enemies 
admitted  that  from  the  gluttony,  the  drunkenness, 
and  the  viler  forms  of  sensuality,  which  wei^  then  so 
common,  he  was  totally  free.  For  the  rest,  it  is  cer- 
tain that  no  friend  ever  permanently  quarrelled  with 
him  on  any  question  of  domestic  injury  ;  and  either 
there  was  a  general  indifference  on  such  subjects, 
which  lightens  the  character  of  the  sin,  or  popular 
scandals  in-  old  Rome  were  of  no  sounder  material 
than  we  find  them  composed  of  in  other  countries 
and  in  other  times. 


170  Coemr, 

Turning  from  scandal  to  reality,  we  come  now  to  a 
curious  incident,  which  occasioned  a  fresh  political 
convulsion,  where  Ciesar  appears,  not  as  an  actor  in 
an  affair  of  gallantry,  but  as  a  sufferer. 

Pompey  was  still  absent.  Caesar  had  resumed  his 
duties  as  a  praetor,  and  was  living  in  the  official  house 
of  the  Pontifex  Maximus,  with  his  mother  Aurelia 
and  his  wife  Pompeia.  The  age  was  fertile  of  new 
religions.  The  worship  of  the  Bona  Dea,  a  foreign 
goddess  of  unknown  origin,  had  recently  been  intro- 
duced into  Rome,  and  an  annual  festival  was  held  in 
her  honor  in  the  house  of  one  or  other  of  the  princi- 
pal magistrates.  The  Vestal  virgins  officiated  at  the 
ceremonies,  and  women  only  were  permitted  to  be 
present.  This  year  the  pontifical  palace  was  selected 
for  the  occasion,  and  Caesar's  wife  Pompeia  was  to 
preside. 

The  reader  may  remember  a  certain  youth  named 
Clodius,  who  had  been  with  Lucullus  in  Asia,  and  had 
been  a  chief  instigator  of  the  mutiny  in  his  army. 
He  was  Lucullus's  brother-in-law,  a  member  of  the 
Claudian  family,  a  patrician  of  the  patricians,  and 
connected  by  blood  and  marriage  with  the  proudest 
members  of  the  Senate.  If  Cicero  is  to  be  believed, 
he  had  graduated  even  while  a  boy  in  every  form  of 
vice,  natural  and  unnatural.  He  was  bold,  clever, 
unprincipled,  and  unscrupulous,  with  a  slender  diminu- 
tive figure  and  a  delicate  woman's  face.  His  name 
was  Clodius  Pulcher.  Cicero  played  upon  it  and 
called  him  Pulchellus  Puer,  "  the  pretty  boy."  Be- 
tween this  promising  young  man  and  Caesar's  wife 
Pompeia  there  had  sprung  up  an  acquaintance,  which 
Clodius  was  anxious  to  press  to  further  extremes. 
Pompeia  was  difficult  of   access,  her   mother-in-law 


Clodius  and  Pompeia,  171 

Aurelia  keeping  a  strict  watch  over  her;  and  Clodius, 
who  was  afraid  of  nothing,  took  advantage  of  the 
Bona  Dea  festival  to  make  his  way  into  Caesar's  house 
dressed  as  a  woman.  Unfortunately  for  him,  his  dis- 
guise was  detected.  The  insulted  Vestals  and  the 
other  ladies  who  were  present  flew  upon  him  like  the 
dogs  of  Actason,  tore  his  borrowed  garments  from  him, 
and  drove  him  into  the  street  naked  and  wounded. 
The  adventure  became  known.  It  was  mentioned  in 
the  Senate,  and  the  College  of  Priests  was  ordered  to 
hold  an  inquiry.  The  College  found  that  Clodius  had 
committed  sacrilege,  and  the  regular  course  in  such 
cases  was  to  send  the  offender  to  trial.  There  was 
general  unwillingness,  however,  to  treat  this  matter 
seriously.  Clodius  had  many  friends  in  the  house, 
and  even  Cicero,  who  was  inclined  at  first  to  be  severe, 
took  on  reflection  a  more  lenient  view.  Clodius  had 
a  sister,  a  light  lady  who,  weary  of  her  conquests  over 
her  fashionable  admirers,  had  tried  her  fascinations 
on  the  great  orator.  He  had  escaped  complete  subju- 
gation, but  he  had  been  flattered  by  the  attention  of 
the  seductive  beauty,  and  was  ready  to  help  her 
brother  out  of  his  difficulty.  Clodius  was  not  yet 
the  dangerous  desperado  which  he  afterwards  became  ; 
and  immorality,  though  seasoned  with  impiety,  might 
easily,  it  was  thought,  be  made  too  much  of.  Ciesar 
himself  did  not  press  for  punishment.  As  president 
of  the  college,  he  had  acquiesced  in  their  decision, 
and  he  divorced  the  unfortunate  Pompeia;  but  he 
expressed  no  opinion  as  to  the  extent  of  her  criminal- 
ity, and  he  gave  as  his  reason  for  separating  from  her, 
not  that  she  was  guilty,  but  that  Caesar's  wife  must 
be  above  suspicion.    • 

Cato,  however,  insisted  on  a  prosecution.     Messala, 


172  Cmar. 

one  of  the  consuls,  was  equally  peremptory.  The 
hesitation  was  regarded  by  the  sti-tcter  senators  as  a 
scandal  to  the  order ;  and  in  spite  of  the  efforts  of  the 
second  consul  Piso,  who  was  a  friend  of  Clodius,  it 
was  decided  that  a  bill  for  his  indictment  should  be 
submitted  to  the  assembly  in  the  Forum.  Clodius,  it 
seems,  was  generally  popular.  No  political  question 
was  raised  by  the  proceedings  against  him ;  for  the 
present  his  offence  was  merely  a  personal  one  ;  the 
wreck  of  Catiline's  companions,  the  dissolute  young 
aristocrats,  the  loose  members  of  all  ranks  and  classes, 
took  up  the  cause,  and  gathered  to  support  their  fa- 
vorite, with  young  Curio,  whom  Cicero  called  in  mock- 
ery Filiola^  at  their  head.  The  approaches  to  the 
Forum  were  occupied  by  them.  Piso,  by  whom  the 
bill  was  introduced,  himself  advised  the  people  to  re- 
ject it.  Cato  flew  to  the  Rostra  and  railed  at  the 
consul.  Hortensius,  the  orator,  and  many  others 
spoke  on  the  same  side.  It  appeared  at  last  that  the 
people  were  divided,  and  would  consent  to  the  bill 
being  passed,  if  it  was  recommended  to  them  by  both 
the  consuls.  Again,  therefore,  the  matter  was  referred 
to  the  Senate.  One  of  the  tribunes  introduced  Clo- 
dius, that  he  might  speak  for  himself.  Cicero  had 
now  altered  his  mind,  and  was  in  favor  of  the  prose- 
cution. 

The  "  pretty  youth  "  was  alternately  humble  and 
violent,  begging  pardon,  and  then  bursting  into  abuse 
of  his  brother-in-law,  Lucullus,  and  more  particularly 
of  Cicero,  whom  he  suspected  of  being  the  chief  pro- 
moter of  the  proceedings  against  him.  When  it  came 
to  a  division,  the  Senate  voted  by  a  majority  of  four 
hundred  to  fifteen  that  the  cons  lis  must  recommend 
the  bill.     Piso  gave  way,  and  the  tribune  also  who 


Ti'ial  of  Clodius,  173 

had  been  in  Clodius's  favor.  The  people  were  satis- 
fied, and  a  court  of  fifty-six  judges  was  appointed, 
before  whom  the  trial  was  to  take  place.  It  rei,j.uary 
seemed  that  a  conviction  must  necessarily  ^'  ^  ^^• 
follow,  for  there  was  no  question  about  the  facts, 
which  were  all  admitted.  There  was  some  manoeu- 
vring, however,  in  the  constitution  of  the  court,  which 
raised  Cicero's  suspicions.  The  judges,  instead  of 
being  selected  by  the  pragtor,  were  chosen  by  lot,  and 
the  prisoner  was  allowed  to  challenge  as  many  names 
as  he  pleased.  The  result  was  that  in  Cicero's  opin- 
ion a  more  scandalous  set  of  persons  than  those  who 
were  finally  sworn  were  never  collected  round  a  gam- 
ing table — ''disgraced  senators,  bankrupt  knights, 
disreputable  tribunes  of  the  treasury,  the  few  honest 
men  that  were  left  appearing  to  be  ashamed  of  their 
company  "  —  and  Cicero  considered  that  it  would  have 
been  better  if  Hortensius,  who  was  prosecuting,  had 
withdrawn,  and  had  left  Clodius  to  be  condemned  by 
the  general  sense  of  respectable  people,  rather  than 
risk  the  credit  of  Roman  justice  before  so  scandalous 
a  tribunal.^  Still  the  case  as  it  proceeded  appeared 
so  clear  as  to  leave  no  hope  of  an  acquittal.  Clodius's 
friends  were  in  despair,  and  were  meditating  an  ap- 
peal to  the  mob.  The  judges,  on  the  evening  of  the 
first  day  of  the  trial,  as  if  they  had  already  decided  on 
a  verdict  of  guilty,  applied  for  a  guard  to  protect  them 
while  they  delivered  it.  The  Senate  complimented 
them  in  giving  their  consent.  With  a  firm  expecta- 
tion present  in  all  men's  minds  the  second  morning 
dawned.     Even  in  Rome,  accustomed  as  it  was  to 

i  *'Si  causam  •quseris  absolutionis,  egestas  judicum  fuit  et  turpitude. 
.  .  .  Noil  vidit  (Hortensius)  satins  esse  iiUim  in  infaraia  relinqui  ac  aor- 
iibus  quara  infirmo  judicio  committi."  —  I'o  Attictts^  i.  16. 


174  C(2mr. 

mockeries  of  justice,  public  opinion  was  shocked  when 
the  confident  anticipation  was  disappointed.  Accord- 
ing to  Cicero,  Marcus  Crassus,  for  reasons  known  to 
liimself,  had  been  interested  in  Clodius.  During  the 
night  he  sent  for  the  judges  one  by  one.  He  gave 
them  money.  What  else  he  either  gave  or  promised 
them,  must  continue  veiled  in  Cicero's  Latin. ^  Be- 
fore these  influences  the  resolution  of  the  judges 
melted  away,  and  when  the  time  came,  thirty-one  out 
of  fifty-six  high-born  Roman  peers  and  gentlemen  de- 
clared Clodius  innocent. 

The  original  cause  was  nothing.  That  a  profligate 
young  man  should  escape  punishment  for  a  licentious 
frolic  was  comparatively  of  no  consequence  ;  but  the 
trial  acquired  a  notoriety  of  infamy  which  shook  once 
more  the  already  tottering  constitution. 

"  Why  did  you  ask  for  a  guard  ?  "  old  Catulus 
growled  to  the  judges  :  "  was  it  that  the  money  you 
have  received  might  not  be  taken  from  you?  " 

"Such  is  the  history  of  this  affair,"  Cicero  wrote  to 
his  friend  Atticus.  '^  We  thought  that  the  foundation 
of  the  Commonwealth  had  been  surely  reestablished 
m  my  consulship,  all  orders  of  good  men  being  hap- 
pily united.  You  gave  the  praise  to  me  and  I  to  the 
gods  ;  and  now  unless  some  god  looks  favorably  on 
us,  all  is  lost  in  this  single  judgment.  Thirty  Ro- 
mans have  been  found  to  trample  justice  under  foot 
for  a  bribe,  and  to  declare  an  act  not  to  have  been 
committed,  about  which  not  only  not  a  man,  but  not 
a  beast  of  the  field,  can  entertain  the  smallest  doubt." 

Cato   threatened  the    judges  with  impeachment; 

1  *'  Jam  vero,  oh  Dii  Boni !  rem  perditam  !  etiam  noctes  certarum  mulie- 
rum,  atque  advlescentulorum  nohilium  introductiones  nonnuUis  judicibus 
pro  mercedis  cumulo  fuerunt."  —  Ad  Atticum,  i.  16. 


Conquest  of  Lu&itania,       ^  175 

Cicero  stormed  in  the  Senate,  rebuked  the  consul 
Piso,  and  lectured  Clodius  in  a  speech  which  he  him- 
self admired  exceedingly.  The  "  pretty  boy  "  in  re- 
ply taunted  Cicero  with  wishing  to  make  himself  a 
king.  Cicero  rejoined  with  asking  Clodius  about  a 
man  named  "  King,"  whose  estates  he  had  appropri- 
ated, and  reminded  him  of  a  misadventure  among  the 
pirates,  from  which  he  had  come  off  with  nameless 
ignominy.  Neither  antagonist  very  honor- 
ably distinguished  himself  in  this  encounter 
of  wit.  The  Senate  voted  at  last  for  an  inquiry  into 
the  judges'  conduct  ;  but  an  inquiry  only  added  to 
Cicero's  vexation,  for  his  special  triumph  had  been, 
as  he  conceived,  the  union  of  the  Senate  with  the 
Equites  ;  and  the  Equites  took  the  resolution  as  di- 
rected against  themselves,  and  refused  to  be  consoled.^ 
Caesar  had  been  absent  during  these  scenes.  His 
term  of  office  having  expired,  he  had  been  dispatched 
as  pro-praBtor  to  Spain,  where  the  ashes  of  the  Ser- 
torian  rebellion  were  still  smouldering ;  and  he  had 
started  for  his  province  while  the  question  of  Clodius's 
trial  was  still  pending.  Portugal  and  Gallicia  were 
still  unsubdued.  Bands  of  robbers  lay  everywhere  in 
the  fastnesses  of  the  mountain  ranges.  Caesar  was 
already  favorably  known  in  Spain  for  his  service  as 
quaestor.  He  now  completed  the  conquest  of  the  Pe- 
ninsula. He  put  down  the  banditti.  He  reorganized 
the  administration  with  the  rapid  skill  which  always 

1  "  Nos  hie  in  republic^,  infirtna,  misera  commutabilique  versamur.  Credo 
enim  te  audisse,  nostros  equites  piene  asenatiiesse  disjunctos;  quiprimuD'. 
illud  valde  graviter  tulerunt,  promulgatum  ex  senatus  consulto  fuisse,  ut 
de  ih,  qui  ob  judicandum  pecuniam  accepisseut  qusereretur.  Qua  in  re 
dcceinenda  cum  ego  casu  non  affuissem,  sensissemque  id  equestreni  ordi- 
nem  forre  moleste,  neque  aperte  dicere;  objurgavi  senatum,  ut  mihi  vsup 
Bum,  summa  cum  auctoritate,  et  m  caus^  non  verecu?ida  admodum  gsavis 
et  copiosus  fui."  —  To  Atticus,  i.  17. 


176  Ccesar, 

so  remarkably  distinguished  him.  He  sent  home 
large  sums  of  money  to  the  treasury.  His  work  was 
done  quickly,  but  it  was  done  completely.  He  no- 
where left  an  unsound  spot  unprobed.  He  never 
contented  himself  with  the  superficial  healing  of  a 
wound  which  would  break  out  again  when  he  was 
gone.  What  he  began  he  finished,  and  left  it  in  need 
of  no  further  surgery.  As  his  reward,  he  looked  for 
a  triumph  and  the  consulship,  one  or  both ;  and  the 
consulship  he  knew  could  not  well  be  refused  to  him, 
unwelcome  as  it  would  be  to  the  Senate. 

Pompey  meanwhile  was  at  last  coming  back.  All 
lesser  luminaries  shone  faint  before  the  sun  of  Pom- 
pey, the  subduer  of  the  pirates,  the  conqueror  of  Asia, 
the  glory  of  the  Roman  name.  Even  Cicero  had 
feared  that  the  fame  of  the  saviour  of  his  country 
might  pale  before  the  lustre  of  the  great  Pompey, 
"I  used  to  be  in  alarm,"  he  confessed  with  naive  sim- 
plicity, "  that  six  hundred  years  hence  the  merits  of 
Sampsiceramus  ^  might  seem  to  have  been  more  than 
mine."  ^  But  how  would  Pompey  appear  ?  Would 
he  come  at  the  head  of  his  army,  like  Sylla,  the 
armed  soldier  of  the  democracy,  to  avenge  the  affront 
apon  his  officers,  to  reform  the  State,  to  punish  the 
Senate  for  the  murder  of  the  Catiline  conspirators? 
Pompey  had  no  such  views,  and  no  capacity  for  such 
ambitious  operations.  The  ground  had  been  pre- 
pared beforehand.  The  Mucia  story  had  perhaps 
done  its  work,  and  the  Senate  and  the  great  com- 
mander were  willing  to  meet  each  other,  at  least  witli 
outward  friendliness. 


1  A  nickname  undei  which  Cicero  often  speaks  of  Pompey. 

2  "Solebat  enim  me  pungere,  ne  Sampsicerami  merita  in  patriam  ad 
aanos  DC  majora  viderentur,  quam  nostra."  —  To  Atticus,  ii.  17. 


Pompey^s  Return,  177 

His  successes  had  been  brilliant ;  but  they  were  due 
rath  er  to  his  honesty  than  to  his  military  genius. 
He  had  encountered  no  real  resistance,  and  Cato  had 
sneered  at  his  exploits  as  victories  over  women.  He 
had  put  down  the  buccaneers,  because  he  had  refused 
to  be  bribed  by  them.  He  had  overthrown  Mithri- 
cates  and  had  annexed  Asia  Minor  and  Syria  to  the 
Roman  dominions.  Lucullus  could  have  done  it  as 
easily  as  his  successor,  if  he  could  have  turned  his 
back  upon  temptations  to  increase  his  own  fortune  or 
gratify  his  own  passions.  The  wealth  of  the  East 
had  lain  at  Pompey's  feet,  and  he  had  not  touched  it. 
He  had  brought  millions  into  the  treasury.  He  re- 
turned, as  he  had  gone  out,  himself  moderately  pro- 
vided for,  and  had  added  nothing  to  his  private  in- 
come. He  understood,  and  practised  strictly,  the 
common  rules  of  morality.  He  detested  dishonesty 
and  injustice.  But  he  had  no  political  insight ;  and 
if  he  was  ambitious,  it  was  with  the  innocent  vanity 
which  desires,  and  is  content  with,  admiration.  In 
the  time  of  the  Scipios  he  would  have  lived  in  an  at- 
mosphere of  universal  applause,  and  would  have  died 
in  honor  with  an  unblemished  name.  In  the  age  of 
Clodius  and  Catiline  he  was  the  easy  dupe  of  men  of 
stronger  intellect  than  his  own,  who  played  upon  his 
unsuspicious  integrity.  His  delay  in  coming  back 
had  arisen  chiefly  from  anxiety  for  his  personal  safety. 
He  was  eager  to  be  reconciled  to  the  Senate,  yet  with- 
out deserting  the  people.  While  in  Asia,  he  had  re- 
assured Cicero  that  nothing  was  to  be  feared  fiom 
him.i  His  hope  was  to  find  friends  on  all  sides  and 
in  all  parties,  and  he  thought  that  he  had  deserved 
iheir  friendship. 

i  "Pompeius  nobis  amicissimus  esse  constat." —  To  Atticus,  i.  12. 
12 


178  Ccesar, 

Thus  when  Pompey  landed  at  Brindisi  his  dreaded 
December,  legions  were  disbanded,  and  he  proceeded  to 
B.  c.  62.  ^j^g  Capitol,  with  a  train  of  captive  princes 
as  the  symbols  of  his  victories,  and  wagons  loaded 
with  treasure  as  an  offering  to  his  country.  He  was 
received  as  he  advanced  with  the  shouts  of  applaud- 
ing multitades.  He  entered  Rome  in  a  galaxy  of 
glory.  A  splendid  column  commemorated  the  cities 
which  he  had  taken,  the  twelve  million  human  beings 
whom  he  nad  slain  or  subjected.  His  triumph  was 
the  mos^;  magnificent  which  the  Roman  citizens  had 
ever  witnessed,  and  by  special  vote  he  was  permitted 
to  wear  his  triumphal  robe  in  the  Senate  as  often  and 
as  long  as  might  please  him.  The  fireworks  over,  and 
with  the  aureole  of  glory  about  his  brow,  the  great 
Pompey,  like  another  Samson  shorn  of  his  locks, 
dropped  into  impotence  and  insignificance.  In  Feb- 
ruary 61,  during  the  debate  on  the  Clodius 
aft'air.  he  made  his  first  speech  in  the  Senate. 
Cicero,  listening  with  malicious  satisfaction,  reported 
that  "  Pompey  gave  no  pleasure  to  the  wretched  ;  to 
the  bad  he  seemed  without  back-bone ;  he  was  not 
agreeable  to  the  well-to-do ;  the  wise  and  good  found 
him  wanting  in  substance  ;  "  ^  in  short,  the  speech 
was  a  failure.  Pompey  applied  for  a  second  consul- 
ship. He  was  reminded  that  he  had  been  consul 
eight  years  previously,  and  that  the  ten  years'  inter- 
val prescribed  by  Sylla,  between  the  first  and  the  sec- 
ond term,  had  not  expired.  He  asked  for  lands  for 
his  soldiers,  and  for  the  ratification  of  his  acts  in  Asia. 
Cato  opposed  the  first  request,  as  likely  to  lead  to  an- 
other Agrarian  law.      Lucullus,  who  was  jealous  of 

i  "  Non  jucunda  miseris,  inanis  improbis,  beatis  non  grata,  bonis  non 
gravis.    Itaque  frigebat."  —  Ti  Atticus,  i.  14. 


State  of  the  Commonwealth.  179 

him,  raised  difficulties  about  the  second,  and  thwarted 
him  with  continual  delays. 

Pompey,  being  a  poor  speaker,  thus  found  himself 
entirely  helpless  in  the  new  field.  Cicero,  being  re- 
lieved of  fear  from  him  as  a  rival,  was  wise  enough 
to  see  that  the  collapse  might  not  continue,  and  that 
his  real  qualities  might  again  bring  him  to  the  front. 
The  Clodius  business  had  been  a  frightful  scandal, 
and,  smooth  as  the  surface  might  seem,  ugly  cracks 
were  opening  all  round  the  constitution.  The  dis- 
banded legions  were  impatient  for  their  farms.  The 
knights,  who  were  already  offended  with  the  Senate 
for  having  thrown  the  disgrace  of  the  Clodius  trial 
upon  them,  had  a  fresh  and  more  substantial  griev- 
ance. The  leaders  of  the  order  had  contracted  to 
farm  the  revenues  in  Asia.  They  found  that  the 
terms  which  they  had  offered  were  too  high,  and 
they  claimed  an  abatement,  which  the  Senate  refused 
to  allow.  The  Catiline  conspiracy  should  have  taught 
the  necessity  of  a  vigorous  administration.  Csecilius 
Metellus  and  Lucius  Afranius,  who  had  been  chosen 
consuls  for  the  year  60,  were  mere  nothings.  February  i, 
Metellus  was  a  vacant  aristocrat,^  to  be  de-  ^-  ^-  ^• 
pended  on  for  resisting  popular  demands,  but  without 
insight  otherwise ;  the  second,  Afranius,  was  a  person 
"  on  whom  only  a  philosopher  could  look  without  a 
groan ; "  ^  and  one  year  more  might  witness  the  con- 
sulship of  Caesar.  "I  have  not  a  friend,"  Cicero 
wrote,  "  to  whom  I  can  express  my  real  thoughts. 
Things  cannot  long  stand  as  they  are.  I  have  been 
vehement:   I  have  put   out  all  my  strength  in   the 

1  "  Metellus  non  homo,  sed  litus  atque  aer,  et  solitudo  mera." —  ToAtti- 
ms,  i.  18. 

2  "Consul  est  impositus  is  nobis,  quern  nemo,  praeter  nos  phiJosophos, 
•spicere  sine  suspiratu  potest."  —  lb. 


180  Cmar, 

hope  of  mending  matters  and  healing  our  disorders, 
but  we  will  not  endure  the  necessary  medicine.  The 
seat  of  justice  has  been  publicly  debauched.  Resolu- 
tions are  introduced  against  corruption,  but  no  law 
can  be  carried.  The  knights  are  alienated.  The  Sen- 
ate has  lost  its  authority.  The  concord  of  the  orders 
is  gone,  and  the  pillars  of  the  Commonwealth  which 
I  set  up  are  overthrown.  We  have  not  a  statesman, 
or  the  shadow  of  one.  My  friend  Pompey,  who  might 
have  done  something,  sits  silent,  admiring  his  fine 
clothes.!  Crassus  will  say  nothing  to  make  himself 
unpopular,  and  the  rest  are  such  idiots  as  to  hope  that 
although  the  constitution  fall  they  will  save  their 
own  fish-ponds.2  Cato,  the  best  man  that  we  have,  is 
more  honest  than  wise.  For  these  three  months  he 
has  been  worrying  the  revenue  farmers,  and  will  not 
let  the  Senate  satisfy  them."  ^ 

It  was  time  for  Cicero  to  look  about  him.  The 
Catiline  affair  was  not  forgotten.  He  might  still  be 
called  to  answer  for  the  executions,  and  he  felt  that 
he  required  some  stronger  support  than  an  aristocracy 
who  would  learn  nothing  and  seemed  to  be  bent  on 
destroying  themselves.  In  letter  after  letter  he  pours 
out  his  contempt  for  his  friends  "  of  the  fish-ponds," 
as  he  called  them,  who  would  neither  mend 

B>  C   60. 

their  ways  nor  let  others  mend  them.  He 
would  not  desert  them  altogether,  but  he  provided 
for  contingencies.  The  tribunes  had  taken  up  the 
cause  of  Porapey's  legionaries.     Agrarian  laws  were 

1  "Pompeius  togulam  illam  pictam  silentio  tuetur  suam."  —  Ih.  'The 
*  pi3ta  togula"  means  the  triumphal  robe  which  Pompey  was  allowed  to 
wear. 

2  "  Ceteros  jam  nosti;  qui  ita  sunt  stulti,  ut  amissa.  republic^  piscinas  suas 
fore  salvas  sperare  videantur."  —  lb. 

«  lb.  i.  18,  abridged. 


Cicero  and  Pompey,  181 

threatened,  and  Pompey  himself  was  most  eager  to 
Bee  his  soldiers  satisfied.  Cicero,  who  had  hitherto 
opposed  an  Agrarian  law  with  all  his  yiolence,  dis- 
covered now  that  somolhing  might  be  said  in  favor 
of  draining  "  the  sink  of  the  cit}^,"  ^  and  repeopling 
Italy.  Besides  the  public  advantage,  he  felt  that  he 
would  please  the  mortified  but  still  popular  Pompey ; 
and  he  lent  his  help  in  the  Senate  to  improving  a  bill 
introduced  by  the  tribunes,  and  endeavoring,  though 
unsuccessfully,  to  push  it  through. 

So  grateful  was  Pompey  for  Cicero's  support,  that 
he  called  him,  in  the  Senate,  "  the  saviour  of  the 
world."  2  Cicero  was  delighted  with  the  phrase,  and 
began  to  look  to  Pompey  as  a  convenient  ally.  He 
thought  that  he  could  control  and  guide  him  and  use 
his  popularity  for  moderate  measures.  Nay,  even  in 
his  despair  of  the  aristocracy,  he  began  to  regard  as 
not  impossible  a  coalition  with  Caesar.  "  You  cau- 
tion me  about  Pompey,"  he  wrote  to  Atticus  in  the 
following  July.  *'  Do  not  suppose  that  I  j^^^  ^  ^ 
am  attaching  myself  to  him  for  my  own  ^* 
protection  ;  but  the  state  of  things  is  such,  that  if  we 
two  disagree  the  worst  misfortunes  may  be  feared.  I 
make  no  concessions  to  him,  I  seek  to  make  him  bet- 
ter, and  to  cure  him  of  his  popular  levity ;  and  now 
he  speaks  more  highly  by  far  of  my  actions  than  of 
his  own.  He  has  merely  done  well,  he  says,  while  I 
have  saved  the  State.  However  this  may  affect  me, 
it  is  certainly  good  for  the  Commonwealth.  What  if 
I  can  make  Cossar  better  also,  who  is  now  coming  on 

1  "  Sentinam  urbis,"  a  worse  word  than  he  had  blamed  in  Kullus  three 
years  before.  —  To  Atticus,  i.  19. 

2  "Pompeium  adduxi  in  earn  voluntatem,  ut  in  Senatu  non  semel,  sea 
B»pe,  multisque  verbis,  hujus  mihi  'salutem  imperii  atqus  orbis  terrarura 
•djudicarit."  —  lb. 


182  Ccesar. 

with  wind  and  tide  ?  Will  that  be  so  bad  a  thing? 
Even  if  I  had  no  enemies,  if  I  was  supported  as  uni- 
versally as  I  ought  to  be,  still  a  medicine  which  will 
cure  the  diseased  parts  of  the  State  is  better  than 
the  surgery  which  would  amputate  them.  Tho 
knights  have  fallen  off  from  the  Senate.  The  nol  le 
lords  think  they  are  in  heaven  when  they  have  bar- 
bel in  their  ponds  that  will  eat  out  of  their  hands, 
and  they  leave  the  rest  to  fate.  You  cannot  lovo 
Cato  more  than  I  love  him,  but  he  does  harm  with 
the  best  intentions.  He  speaks  as  if  he  was  in 
Plato's  Republic,  instead  of  being  in  the  dregs  of 
that  of  Romulus.  Most  true  that  corrupt  judges 
ought  to  be  punished  !  Cato  proposed  it,  the  Senate 
agreed ;  but  the  knights  have  declared  war  upon  the 
Senate.  Most  insolent  of  the  revenue  farmers  to 
throw  up  their  contract!  Cato  resisted  them,  and 
carried  his  point ;  but  now  when  seditions  break  out, 
the  knights  will  not  lift  a  finger  to  repress  them. 
Are  we  to  hire  mercenaries  ?  Are  we  to  depend  on 
our  slaves  and  freedmen  ?  .  .  .  .  But  enough."  ^ 

Cicero  might  well  despair  of  a  Senate  who  had 
taken  Cato  to  lead  them.  Pompey  had  come  home 
in  the  best  of  dispositions.  The  Senate  had  offended 
Pompey,  and,  more  than  that,  had  offended  his  le- 
gionaries. They  had  quarrelled  with  the  knights. 
They  had  quarrelled  with  the  moneyed  interests. 
They  now  added  an  entirely  gratuitous  affront  to 
Csesar.  His  Spanish  administration  was  admitted  by 
every  one  to  have  been  admirable.  He  was  coming 
to  stand  for  the  consulship,  which  could  not  be  re- 
fused; but  he  asked  for  a  triumph  also,  and  as  the 
rule  stood  there  was  a  difficulty,  for  if  he  was  to  have 

1  To  Atticus,  ii.  1,  abridged. 


Ccesar  stands  for  the  Consulship,  183 

a  triumph,  he  must  remain  outside  the  walls  till  the 
day  fixed  for  it,  and  if  he  was  a  candidate  for  office, 
he  must  be  present  in  person  on  the  day  of  October 
the  election.  The  custom,  though  conven-  ^-c-so. 
lent  in  itself,  had  been  more  than  once  set  aside. 
Caesar  applied  to  the  Senate  for  a  dispensation,  which 
would  enable  him  to  be*a  candidate  in  his  absence ; 
and  Cato,  either  from  mere  dislike  of  Caesar,  or  from 
a  hope  that  he  might  prefer  vanity  to  ambition,  and 
that  the  dreaded  consulship  might  be  escaped,  per- 
suaded the  Senate  to  refuse.  If  this  was  the  expec- 
tation, it  was  disappointed.  Caesar  dropped  his  tri- 
umph, came  home,  and  went  through  the  usual  forms, 
and  it  at  once  appeared  that  his  election  was  certain, 
and  that  every  powerful  influence  in  the  State  was 
combined  in  his  favor.  From  Pompey  he  met  the 
warmest  reception.  The  Mucia  bubble  had  burst. 
Pompey  saw  in  Caesar  only  the  friend  who  had  stood 
by  him  in  every  step  of  his  later  career,  and  had 
braved  the  fury  of  the  Senate  at  the  side  of  his  offi- 
cer Metellus  Nepos.  Equally  certain  it  was,  that 
Caesar,  as  a  soldier,  would  interest  himself  for  Pom- 
pey's  legionaries,  and  that  they  could  be  mutually 
useful  to  each  other.  Caesar  had  the  people  at  his 
back,  and  Pompey  had  the  army.  The  third  great 
power  in  Rome  was  that  of  the  capitalists,  and  about 
the  attitude  of  these  there  was  at  first  some  uncer- 
tainty. Crassus,  who  was  the  impersonation 'of  them, 
was  a  friend  of  Csesar,  but  had  been  on  bad  terms 
with  Pompey.  Caesar,  however,  contrived  to  recon- 
cile them  ;  and  thus  all  parties  outside  the  patrician 
circle  were  combined  for  a  common  purpose.  Could 
Cicero  have  taken  his  place  frankly  at  their  side,  as 
bis  better  knowledge  told  him  to  do,  the  inevitable 


184  Coesar, 

revolution  miglit  have  been  accomplished  without 
bloodshed,  and  the  course  of  history  have  been  dif- 
ferent. C^sar  wished  it.  But  it  was  not  so  to  be. 
Cicero  perhaps  found  that  he  would  have  to  be  con- 
tent with  a  humbler  position  than  he  had  anticipated, 
that  in  such  a  combination  he  would  have  to  folio  v^v 
rather  than  to  lead.  He  was  tempted.  He  saw  a 
promise  of  peace,  safety,  influence,  if  not  absolute, 
NoTember,  1^^  Considerable.  But  he  could  not  bring 
B.  G.  60.  himself  to  sacrifice  the  proud  position  which 
he  had  won  for  himself  in  his  consulship,  as  leader  of 
the  Conservatives ;  and  he  still  hoped  to  reign  in  the 
Senate,  while  using  the  protection  of  the  popular 
chiefs  as  a  shelter  in  time  of  storms. 

Caesar  was  chosen  consul  without  opposition.  His 
party  was  so  powerful  that  it  seemed  at  one  time  as 
if  he  could  name  his  colleague,  but  the  Senate  suc- 
ceeded with  desperate  efforts  in  securing  the  second 
place.  They  subscribed  money  profusely,  the  im- 
maculate Cato  prominent  among  them.  The  ma- 
chinery of  corruption  was  well  in  order.  The  great 
nobles  commanded  the  votes  of  their  clientele^  and 
they  succeeded  in  giving  Caesar  the  same  companion 
who  had  accompanied  him  through  the  aedileship  and 
the  prsetorship,  Marcus  Bibulus,  a  dull,  obstinate 
fool,  who  could  be  relied  on,  if  for  nothing  else,  yet 
for  dogged  resistance  to  every  step  which  the  Senate 
disapproved.  For  the  moment  they  appeared  to  have 
thought  that  with  Bibulus's  help  they  might  defy 
Ca3sar,  and  reduce  his  office  to  a  nullity.  Immedi- 
ately on  the  election  of  the  consuls,  it  was  usual  to 
determine  the  provinces  to  which  they  were  to  be 
appointed  when  their  consulate  should  expire.  The 
regulation  lay  with  the  Senate,  and,  either  in  mere 


CcBsar's  Consulship.  185 

spleen  or  to  prevent  CsBsar  from  having  the  command 
of. an  army,  they  allotted  him  the  department  of  the 
"  Woods  and  Forests."  ^  A  very  few  weeks  had  to 
pass  before  they  discovered  that  they  had  to  do  with 
a  man  who  was  not  to  be  turned  aside  so  slightingly. 
Hitherto  Caesar  had  been  feared  and  hated,  but  his 
powers  were  rather  suspected  than  under- 

B   C    60 

stood.  As  the  nephew  of  Marius  and  the 
son-in-law  of  Cinna,  he  was  the  natural  chief  of  the 
party  which  had  once  governed  Rome,  and  had  been 
trampled  under  the  hoof  of  Sylla.  He  had  shown 
on  many  occasions  that  he  had  inherited  his  uncle's 
principles,  and  could  be  daring  and  skilful  in  assert- 
ing them.  But  he  had  held  carefully  within  the  con- 
stitutional lines ;  he  had  kept  himself  clear  of  con- 
spiracies ;  he  had  never,  like  the  Gracchi,  put  himself 
forward  as  a  tribune  or  attempted  the  part  of  a  pop- 
ular agitator.  When  he  had  exerted  himself  in  the 
political  world  of  Rome,  it  had  been  to  maintain  the 
law  against  violence,  to  resist  and  punish  encroach- 
ments of  arbitrary  power,  or  to  rescue  the  Empire 
from  being  gambled  away  by  incapable  or  profligate 
aristocrats.  Thus  he  had  gathered  for  himself  the 
animosity  of  the  fashionable  upper  classes  and  the 
confidence  of  the  body  of  the  people.  But  what  he 
would  do  in  power,  or  what  it  was  in  him  to  do,  was 
as  yet  merely  conjectural. 

At  all  events,  after  an  interval  of  a  generation, 
there  was  again  a  popular  consul,  and  on  every  side 
there  was  a  harvest  of  iniquities  ready  for  the  sickle. 
Sixty  years  had  passed  since  the  death  of  the  younger 
Gracchus  ;  revolution  after  revolution  had  swept  over 
the  Commonwealth,  and  Italy  was  still  as  Tiberius 

1  8Uvas  calletquc  —  to  which  "  woods  and  forests  "  is  a  near  equivalent. 


186  Ccesar, 

Gracchus  had  found  it.  The  Gracchan  colonists  had 
disappeared.  The  Syllan  mihtary  proprietors  had 
disappeared  —  one  by  one  they  had  fallen  to  beg- 
gary, and  had  sold  their  holdings,  and  again  the  coun- 
try was  parcelled  into  enormous  estates  cultivated  by 
slave  gangs.  The  Italians  had  been  emancipated,  but 
the  process  had  gone  no  further.  The  libertini,  the 
sons  of  the  freedmen,  still  waited  for  equality  of 
rights.  The  rich  and  prosperous  provinces  beyond 
the  Po  remained  unenfranchised,  while  the  value  of 
the  franchise  itself  was  daily  diminishing  as  the  Sen- 
ate resumed  its  control  over  the  initiative  of  legisla- 
tion. Each  year  the  elections  became  more  corrupt. 
The  Clodius  judgment  had  been  the  most  frightful 
instance  which  had  yet  occurred  of  the  de- 

B   C.  59.  . 

pravity  of  the  law  courts ;  while,  by  Cicero's 
own  admission,  not  a  single  measure  could  pass  be- 
yond discussion  into  act  which  threatened  the  inter- 
ests of  the  oligarchy.  The  consulship  of  Caesar  was 
looked  to  with  hope  from  the  respectable  part  of  the 
citizens,  with  alarm  from  the  high-born  delinquents 
as  a  period  of  genuine  reform.  The  new  consuls 
were  to  enter  office  on  the  1st  of  January.  In  De- 
cember it  was  known  that  an  Agrarian  law  would  be 
at  once  proposed  under  plea  of  providing  for  Pom- 
pey's  troops  ;  and  Cicero  had  to  decide  whether  he 
would  act  in  earnest  in  the  spirit  which  he  had  be- 
gun to  show  when  the  tribunes'  bill  was  under  dis- 
cussion, or  would  fall  back  upon  resistance  with  the 
rest  of  his  party,  or  evade  the  difficult  dilemma  by 
going  on  foreign  service,  or  else  would  simply  ab- 
sent himself  from  Rome  while  the  struggle  was  going 
on.  "  I  may  either  resist,"  he  said,  "  and  there  will 
be  an  honorable  fight ;  or  I   may  do  nothing,  and 


Uneasiness  of  Cicero,  187 

withdraw  into  the  country,  which  will  be  honorable 
also  ;  or  I  may  give  active  help,  which  I  am  told 
Csesar  expects  of  me.  His  friend,  Cornelias  Balbus, 
who  was  with  me  lately,  aflBrms  that  Caesar  will  be 
guided  in  everything  by  my  advice  and  Pompey's, 
and  will  use  his  endeavor  to  bring  Pompey  and  Cras- 
sus  together.  Such  a  course  has  its  advantages;  it 
will  draw  me  closely  to  Pompey  and,  if  I  please,  to 
Caesar.  I  shall  have  no  more  to  fear  from  my  en- 
emies. I  shall  be  at  peace  with  the  people.  I  can 
look  to  quiet  in  my  old  age.  But  the  lines  still  move 
me  which  conclude  the  third  book  (of  my  Poem  on 
•  my  consulship)  :  '  Hold  to  the  track  on  which  thou 
enteredst  in  thy  early  youth,  which  thou  pursuedst  as 
consul  so  valorously  and  bravely.  Increase  thy  fame, 
and  seek  the  praise  of  the  good.'  "  ^ 

It  had  been  proposed  to  send  Cicero  on  a  mission 
to  Egypt.  "I  should  like  well,  and  I  have  long 
wished,"  he  said,  "  to  see  Alexandria  and  the  rest  of 
that  country.  They  have  had  enough  of  me  here  at 
present,  and  they  may  wish  for  me  when  I  am  away. 
But  to  go  now,  and  to  go  on  commission  from  Caesar 
and  Pompey  I 

I  should  blush 
To  face  the  men  and  long-robed  dames  of  Troy .2 

What  will  our  Optimates  say,  if  we  have  any  Opti- 
mates  left  ?  Polydamas  will  throw  in  my  teeth  that 
I  have  been  bribed  by  the  Opposition  —  I  mean  Cato, 
who  is  one  out  of  a  hundred  thousand  to  me.  What 
will  history  say  of  me  six  hundred  years  hence  ?     I 

1  "Interea  cursus,  quos  prim^  a  parte  juventaj, 
Quosque  ideo  consul  virtute  animoque  petisti, 
Hos  retine  atque  auge  f amam  laudesque  bonorum." 

To  Atticusj  A.  a. 

«  lUadf  vi.  442.    Lord  Derby's  translation. 


i.88  Ccesar, 

am  more  afraid  of  that  than  of  the  chatter  of  my  con- 
temporaries." ^ 

So  Cicero  meditated,  thinking  as  usual  of  himself 
first  and  of  his  duty  afterwards  —  the  latalest  of  aU 
courses  then  and  always. 

1  To  AUuMt^  ii.  1^ 


CHAPTER  XIII. 

The  consulship  of  Caesar  -was  tlie  last  chance  for 
the  Roman  aristocracy.  He  was  not  a  rev- 
olutionist. Revolutions  are  the  last  des- 
perate remedy  when  all  else  has  failed.  They  may 
create  as  many  evils  as  they  cure,  and  wise  men  al- 
ways hate  them.  But  if  revolution  was  to  be  es- 
caped, reform  was  inevitable,  and  it  was  for  the 
Senajbe  to  choose  between  the  alternatives.  Could 
the  noble  lords  have  known,  then,  in  that  their  day, 
the  things  that  belonged  to  their  peace  —  could  they 
have  forgotten  their  fish-ponds  and  their  game  pre- 
serves, and  have  remembered  that,  as  the  rulers  of 
the  civilized  world,  they  had  duties  which  the  eternal 
order  of  nature  would  exact  at  their  hands,  the  shaken 
constitution  might  again  have  regained  its  stability, 
and  the  forms  and  even  the  reality  of  the  Republic 
might  have  continued  for  another  century.  It  was 
not  to  be.  Had  the  Senate  been  capable  of  using  the 
opportunity,  they  would  long  before  have  undertaken 
a  reformation  for  themselves.  Even  had  their  eyes 
been  opened,  there  were  disintegrating  forces  at  work 
which  the  highest  political  wisdom  could  do  no  more 
than  arrest ;  and  little  good  is  really  effected  by  pro- 
longing artificially  the  lives  of  either  constitutions  or 
individuals  beyond  their  natural  period.  From  the 
time  when  Rome  became  an  Empire,  mistress  of 
provinces  to  which  she  was  unable  to  extend  her  own 
liberties,  the  days  of  her  self-government  were  num- 


190  Ccesar. 

bered.  A  homogeneous  and  vigorous  people  may 
manage  their  own  affairs  under  a  popular  constitu- 
tion so  long  as  their  personal  characters  remain  un- 
degenerate.  Parliaments  and  Senates  may  represent 
the  general  will  of  the  community,  and  may  pass 
laws  and  administer  them  as  public  sentiment  ap- 
proves. But  such  bodies  can  preside  successfully 
only  among  subjects  who  are  directly  represented  in 
them.  They  are  too  ignorant,  too  selfish,  too  divided, 
to  govern  others ;  and  Imperial  aspirations  draw 
after  them,  by  obvious  necessity,  an  Imperial  rule. 
Csesar  may  have  known  this  in  his  heart,  yet  the 
most  far-seeing  statesman  will  not  so  trust  his  own 
misgivings  as  to  refuse  to  hope  for  the  regeneration 
of  the  institutions  into  which  he  is  born.  He  will 
determine  that  justice  shall  be  done.  Justice  is  the 
essence  of  government,  and  without  justice  all  forms, 
democratic  or  monarchic,  are  tyrannies  alike.  But 
he  will  work  with  the  existing  methods  till  the  in- 
adequacy of  them  has  been  proved  beyond  dispute. 
Constitutions  are  never  overthrown  till  they  have 
pronounced  sentence  on  themselves. 

Caesar  accordingly  commenced  office  by  an  en- 
deavor to  conciliate.  The  army  and  the  moneyed 
interests,  represented  by  Pompey  and  Crassus,  were 
already  with  him  ;  and  he  used  his  endeavors,  as  has 
been  seen,  to  gain  Cicero,  who  might  bring  with  him 
such  part  of  the  landed  aristocracy  as  were  not  hope- 
lessly incorrigible.  With  Cicero  he  but  partially 
succeeded.  The  great  orator  solved  the  problem  of 
the  situation  by  going  away  into  the  country  and 
remaining  there  for  the  greater  part  of  the  year,  and 
Caesar  had  to  do  without  an  assistance  which,  in  the 
speaking  department,  would  have  been  invaluable  tA 


An  Agrarian  Latv,  191 

hira.  His  first  step  was  to  order  the  publication  of 
the  "Acta  Diurna,"  a  daily  journal  of  the  doings  of 
the  Senate.  The  light  of  day  being  thrown  in  upon 
that  august  body  might  prevent  honorable  members 
from  laying  hands  on  each  other  as  they  had  lately 
done,  and  might  enable  the  people  to  know  what  was 
going  on  among  them  —  on  a  better  authority  than 
rumor.  He  then  introduced  his  Agrarian  law,  the 
rough  draft  of  which  had  been  already  discussed,  and 
had  been  supported  by  Cicero  in  the  preceding  year. 
Had  he  meant  to  be  defiant,  like  the  Gracchi,  he 
might  have  offered  it  at  once  to  the  people.  Instead 
of  doing  so,  he  laid  it  before  the  Senate,  inviting 
them  to  amend  his  suggestions,  and  promising  any 
reasonable  concessions  if  they  would  cooperate.  No 
wrong  was  to  be  done  to  any  existing  occupiers.  No 
right  of  property  was  to  be  violated  which  was  any 
real  right  at  all.  Large  tracts  in  Campania  which 
belonged  to  the  State  were  now  held  on  the  usual 
easy  terms  by  great  landed  patricians.  These  Caesar 
proposed  to  buy  out,  and  to  settle  on  the  ground 
twenty  thousand  of  Pompey's  veterans.  There  was 
money  enough  and  to  spare  in  the  treasury,  which 
they  had  themselves  brought  home.  Out  of  the  large 
funds  which  would  still  remain,  land  might  be  pur- 
chased in  other  parts  of  Italy  for  the  rest,  and  for  a 
few  thousand  of  the  unemployed  population  which 
was  crowded  into  Rome.  The  measure  in  itself  was 
admitted  to  be  a  moderate  one.  Every  pains  had 
been  taken  to  spare  the  interests  and  to  avoid  hurt- 
ing .  the  susceptibilities  of  the  aristocrats.  But,  as 
Cicero  said,  the  very  name  of  an  Agrarian  law  was 
intolerable  to  them.  It  meant  in  the  end  spoliation 
and  division   of  property,  and   the  first   step  would 


192  Ccesar, 

bring  others  after  it.  The  public  lands  they  had 
shared  conveniently  aniong  themselves  from  imme- 
morial time.  The  public  treasure  waa  their  treas- 
ure, to  be  laid  out  as  they  might  think  proper.  Cato 
headed  the  opposition.  He  stormed  for  an  entire 
day,  and  was  so  violent  that  Caesar  threatened  him 
with  arrest.  The  Senate  groaned  and  foamed ;  no 
progress  was  made  or  was  likely  to  be  made ;  and 
Caesar,  as  much  in  earnest  as  they  were,  had  to  tell 
them  that  if  they  would  not  help  him,  he  must  ap- 
peal to  the  assembly.  "  I  invited  you  to  revise  the 
law,"  he  said  ;  "  I  was  willing  that  if  any  clause  dis- 
pleased you  it  should  be  expunged.  You  will  not 
touch  it.     Well  then,  the  people  must  decide." 

The  Senate  had  made  up  their  minds  to  fight  the 
battle.  If  Caesar  went  to  the  assembly,  Bibulus,  their 
second  consul,  might  stop  the  proceedings.  If  this 
seemed  too  extreme  a  step,  custom  provided  other  im- 
pediments to  which  recourse  might  be  had.  Bibulus 
might  survey  the  heavens,  watch  the  birds,  or  the 
clouds,  or  the  direction  of  the  wind,  and  declare  the 
aspects  unfavorable  ;  or  he  might  proclaim  day  after 
day  to  be  holy,  and  on  holy  days  no  legislation  was 
permitted.  Should  these  religious  cobwebs  be  brushed 
away,  the  Senate  had  provided  a  further  resource  in 
three  of  the  tribunes  whom  they  had  bribed.  Thus 
they  held  themselves  secure,  and  dared  Csesar  to  do 
his  worst.  Caesar  on  his  side  was  equally  determined. 
The  assembly  was  convoked.  The  Forum  was  choked 
to  overflowing.  Caesar  and  Pompey  stood  on  the 
steps  of  the  Temple  of  Castor,  and  Bibulus  and  his 
tribunes  were  at  hand  ready  with  their  interpellations. 
Such  passions  had  not  been  roused  in  Rome  since  the 
days  of  Ciivia  and  Octavius,  and  many  a  young  lord 


Scene  in  the  Forum,  193 

was  doubtless  hoping  that  the  day  would  not  close 
without  another  lesson  to  ambitious  demagogues  and 
howling  mobs.  In  their  eyes  the  one  reform  which 
Rome  needed  was  another  Sylla. 

Caesar  read  his  law  from  the  tablet  on  which  it  was 
inscribed ;  and,  still  courteous  to  his  antagonist,  he 
turned  to  Bibulus  and  asked  him  if  he  had  any  fault 
to  find.  Bibulus  said  sullenly  that  he  wanted  no 
revolutions,  and  that  while  he  was  consul  there  should 
be  none.  The  people  hissed ;  and  he  then  added  in 
a  rage,  "  You  shall  not  have  your  law  this  year  though 
every  man  of  you  demand  it."  Caesar  answered 
nothing,  but  Pompey  and  Crassus  stood  forward. 
They  were  not  oJBficials,  but  they  were  real  forces. 
Pompey  was  the  idol  of  every  soldier  in  the  State, 
and  at  Csesar's  invitation  he  addressed  the  assembly. 
He  spoke  for  his  veterans.  He  spoke  for  the  poor  citi- 
zens. He  said  that  he  approved  the  law  to  the  last 
letter  of  it. 

"  Will  you  then,"  asked  Caesar,  "  support  the  law 
if  it  be  illegally  opposed  ?  "  "  Since,"  replied  Pom- 
pey, "  you  consul,  and  you  my  fellow  citizens,  ask  aid 
of  me,  a  poor  individual  without  office  and  without 
authority,  who  nevertheless  has  done  some  service  to 
the  State,  I  say  that  I  will  bear  the  shield,  if  otliers 
draw  the  sword."  Applause  rang  out  from  a  hun- 
dred thousand  throats.  Crassus  followed  to  the  same 
purpose,  and  was  received  with  the  same  wild  delight. 
A  few  senators,  who  retained  their  senses,  saw  the 
nselessness  of  the  opposition,  and  retired.  Bibulus 
was  of  duller  and  tougher  metal.  As  the  vote  was 
about  to  be  taken,  he  and  his  tribunes  rushed  to  the 
rostra.  The  tribunes  pronounced  their  veto.  Bibu- 
jbofl  said  that  he  had  consulted  the  sky  ;  the  gods  for- 

13 


194  CoBsar, 

bade  further  action  being  taken  that  day,  and  he  de- 
clared the  assembly  dissolved.  Nay,  as  if  a  man  like 
Caesar  could  be  stopped  by  a  shadow,  he  proposed  to 
sanctify  the  whole  remainder  of  the  year^  that  no 
further  business  might  be  transacted  in  it.  Yells 
drowned  his  voice.  The  mob  rushed  upon  the  steps : 
Bibulus  was  thrown  down,  and  the  rods  of  the  lictors 
were  >  broken  ;  the  tribunes  who  had  betrayed  their 
order  were  beaten.  Cato  held  his  ground,  and 
stormed  at  Caesar,  till  he  was  led  off  by  the  police, 
raving  and  gesticulating.  The  law  was  then  passed, 
and  a  resolution  besides,  that  every  senator  should 
take  an  oath  to  obey  it. 

So  in  ignominy  the  Senate's  resistance  collapsed  : 
the  Csesar  whom  they  had  thought  to  put  off  with 
their  "  woods  and  forests,"  had  proved  stronger  than 
the  whole  of  them  ;  and,  prostrate  at  the  first  round 
of  the  battle,  they  did  not  attempt  another.  They 
met  the  following  morning.  Bibulus  told  his  story, 
and  appealed  for  support.  Had  the  Senate  complied, 
they  would  probably  have  ceased  to  exist.  The  oath 
was  unpalatable,  but  they  made  the  best  of  it.  Me- 
tullus  Celer,  Cato,  and  Favonius,  a  senator  whom  men 
called  Cato's  ape,  struggled  against  their  fate,  but 
"  swearing  they  would  ne'er  consent,  consented." 
The  unwelcome  formula  was  swallowed  by  the  whole 
of  them  ;  and  Bibulus,  who  had  done  his  part  and 
had  been  beaten  and  kicked  and  trampled  upon,  and 
now  found  his  employers  afraid  to  stand  by  him,  went 
off  sulkily  to  his  house,  shut  himself  up  there,  and 
refused  to  act  as  consul  further  during  the  remainder 
of  the  year. 

There  was  no  further  active  opposition.  A  com- 
mission was  appointed  by  Csesar  to  carry  out  the  Land 


The  '' Leges  Julioe:'  195 

act,  composed  of  twenty  of  the  best  men  that  could 
be  found,  one  of  them  being  Atius  Balbus,  the  hus- 
band of  Caesar's  only  sister,  and  grandfather  of  a 
little  child  now  three  years  old,  who  was  known  after- 
wards to  the  world  as  Augustus.  Cicero  was  offered 
a  place,  but  declined.  The  land  question  having  been 
disposed  of,  Caesar  then  proceeded  with  the  remain- 
ing measures  by  which  his  consulship  was  immortal- 
ized. He  had  redeemed  his  promise  to  Pompey  by 
providing  for  his  soldiers.  He  gratified  Crassus  by 
giving  the  desired  relief  to  the  farmers  of  the  taxes. 
He  confirmed  Pompey's  arrangements  for  the  govern- 
ment of  Asia,  which  the  Senate  had  left  in  suspense. 
The  Senate  was  now  itself  suspended.  The  consul 
acted  directly  with  the  assembly,  without  obstruction, 
and  without  remonstrance,  Bibulus  only  from  time  to 
time  sending  out  monotonous  admonitions  from  within 
doors  that  the  season  was  consecrii,ted,  and  that  Cae- 
sar's acts  had  no  validity.  Still  more  remarkably, 
and  as  the  distinguishing  feature  of  his  term  of  office, 
Caesar  carried,  with  the  help  of  the  people,  the  bodj 
of  admirable  laws  which  are  known  to  jurists  as  the 
"  Leges  Juliae,"  and  mark  an  epoch  in  Roman  history. 
They  were  laws  as  unwelcome  to  the  aristocracy  as 
they  were  essential  to  the  continued  existence  of  the 
Roman  State,  laws  which  had  been  talked  of  in  the 
Senate,  but  which  could  ne/or  pass  through  the  pre- 
liminary stage  of  resolution 3,  and  were  now  enacted 
over  the  Senate's  head  by  the  will  of  Caesar  and  the 
sovereign  power  of  the  nation.  A  mere  outline  can 
alone  be  attempted  here.  There  was  a  law  declaring 
the  inviolability  of  the  persons  of  magistrates  during 
their  term  of  authority,  reflecting  back  on  the  mur- 
der of  Saturninus,  and  tcjuching  by  implication  the 


196  CcB^ar, 

killing  of  Lentulus  and  his  companions.  Tliere  was 
a  law  for  the  punishment  of  adultery,  most  disinter- 
estedly singular  if  the  popular  accounts  of  Caesar's 
habits  had' any  grain  of  truth  in  them.  There  were 
laws  for  the  protection  of  the  subject  from  violence, 
public  or  private  ;  and  laws  disabling  persons  who 
had  laid  hands  illegally  on  Roman  citizens  from  hold- 
ing ofiSce  in  the  Commonwealth.  There  was  a  law, 
intended  at  last  to  be  effective,  to  deal  with  judges 
who  allowed  themselves  to  be  bribed.  There  were 
laws  against  defrauders  of  the  revenue  ;  laws  against 
debasing  the  coin  ;  laws  against  sacrilege ;  laws 
against  corrupt  State  contracts  ;  laws  against  bribery 
at  elections.  Finally,  there  was  a  law,'  carefully 
framed,  Be  repetundis^  to  exact  retribution  from  pro- 
consuls, or  pro-praetors  of  the  type  of  Verres  who  had 
plundered  the  provinces.  All  governors  were  re- 
quired, on  relinquishing  office,  to  make  a  double  re- 
turn of  their  accounts,  one  to  remain  for  inspection 
among  the  archives  of  the  province,  and  one  to  be 
sent  to  Rome ;  and  where  peculation  or  injustice 
could  be  proved,  the  offender's  estate  was-  made  an- 
swerable to  the  last  sesterce.^ 

Such  laws  were  words  only  without  the  will  to  ex- 
ecute them  ;  but  they  affirmed  the  principles  on  which 
Roman  or  any  other  society  could  alone  continue.  It 
was  for  the  officials  of  the  constitution  to  adopt  them, 
and  save  themselves  and  the  Republic,  or  to  ignore 
them  as  they  had  ignored  the- laws  which  already  ex- 
isted, and  see  it  perish  as  it  deserved.  All  that  man 
could  do  foi  the  preservation  of  his  country  from  rev- 
olution Caesar  had  accomplished.     Sylla  had  reestal> 

1  See  a  list  of  the  Leges  Juliae  in  tlie  48th  Book  of  the  Corpus  Jurii 
Cirilis. 


The  '' Leges  JuUce"  197 

lished  the  rule  of  the  aristocracy,  and  it  liad  failed 
grossly  and  disgracefully.  Cinna  and  Marius  had 
tried  democracy,  and  that  had  failed.  Csesar  was 
trying  "what  law  would  do,  and  the  result  remained 
to  be  seen.  Bibulus,  as  each  measure  was  passed, 
croaked  that  it  was  null  and  void.  The  leaders  of 
the  Senate  threatened  between  their  teeth  that  all 
should  be  undone  when  Caesar's  term  was  over.  Cato, 
when  he  mentioned  the  ^'  Leges  Juli«,"  spoke  of 
them  as  enactments,  but  refused  them  their  author's 
name.  But  the  excellence  of  these  laws  was  so 
clearly  recognized  that  they  survived  the  irregularity 
of  their  introduction  ;  and  the  "  Lex  de  Repetundis" 
especially  remained  a  terror  to  evil-doers,  with  a  prom- 
ise of  better  days  to  the  miserable  and  pillaged  sub- 
jects of  the  Roman  Empire. 

So  the  year  of  Csesar's  consulship  passed  away. 
What  was  to  happen  when  it  had  expired  ?  The 
Senate  had  provided  "  the  woods  and  forests  "  for 
him.  .But  the  Senate's  provision  in  such  a  matter 
could  not  be  expected  to  hold.  He  asked  for  noth- 
ing, but  he  was  known  to  desire  an  opportunity  of 
distinguished  service.  Csesar  was  now  forty-three. 
His  life  was  ebbing  away,  and,  with  the  exception  of 
his  two  years  in  Spain,  it  had  been  spent  in  strug- 
gling with  the  base  elements  of  Roman  faction. 
Great  men  will  bear  such  sordid  work  when  it  is  laid 
on  them,  but  they  loathe  it  notwithstanding,  and  for 
the  present  there  was  nothing  more  to  be  done.  A 
new  point  of  departure  had  been  taken.  Principles 
nad  been  laid  down  for  the  Senate  and  people  to  act 
on,  if  they  could  and  would.  Caesar  could  only  wish 
tor  a  long  absence  in  some  new  sphere  of  usefulness, 
where  he  could  achieve  something  really  great  which 
his  country  would  remember. 


198  Cmar. 

And  on  one  side  only  was  such  a  sphere  open  to 
him.  The  East  was  Roman  to  the  Euphrates.  No 
second  Mithridates  could  loosen  the  grasp  with  which 
the  legions  now  held  the  civilized  parts  of  Asia.  Par- 
thians  might  disturb  the  frontier,  but  could  not  seri- 
ously threaten  the  Eastern  dominions ;  and  no  advan- 
tage was  promised  by  following  on  the  steps  of 
Alexander,  and  annexing  countries  too  poor  to  bear 
the  cost  of  their  maintenance.  To  the  west  it  was 
different.  Beyond  the  Alps  there  was  still  a  territory 
of  unknown  extent,  stretching  away  to  the  undefined 
ocean,  a  territory  peopled  with  warlike  races,  some 
of  whom  in  ages  long  past  had  swept  over  Italy  and 
taken  Rome,  and  had  left  their  descendants  and  their 
name  in  the  northern  province,  which  was  now  called 
Cisalpine  Gaul.  With  these  races  the  Romans  had 
as  yet  no  clear  relations,  and  from  them  alone  could 
any  serious  danger  threaten  the  State.  The  Gauls 
had  for  some  centuries  ceased  their  wanderings,  had 
settled  down  in  fixed  localities.  They  had  built  towns 
and  bridges ;  they  had  cultivated  the  soil,  and  had 
become  wealthy  and  partly  civilized.  With  the  tribes 
adjoining  Provence  the  Romans  had  alliances  more 
or  less  precarious,  and  had  established  a  kind  of  pro- 
tectorate over  them.  But  even  here  the  inhabitants 
were  uneasy  for  their  independence,  and  troubles  were 
continually  arising  with  them  ;  while  into  these  dis- 
tricts and  into  the  rest  of  Gaul  a  fresh  and  stormy 
element  was  now  being  introduced.  In  earlier  times 
the  Gauls  had  been  stronger  than  the  Germans,  and 
not  only  could  they  protect  their  own  frontier,  but 
ihey  had  formed  settlements  beyond  the  Rhine. 
These  relations  were  being  changed.  The  Gauls,  as 
they  grew  in  wealth,  declined  in  vigor.     The  Ger* 


State  of  aaul  199 

mans,  still  roving  and  migratory,  were  throwing  cov- 
etous eyes  out  of  their  forests  on  the  fields  and  vine- 
yards of  their  neighbors,  and  enormous  numbers  of 
them  were  crossing  the  Rhine  and  Danube,  looking 
for  new  homes.  How  feeble  a  barrier  either  the  Alps, 
or  the  Gauls  themselves,  might  prove  against  such 
invaders,  had  been  but  too  recently  experienced. 
Men  who  were  of  middle  age  at  the  time  of  Csesar's 
consulship,  could  still  remember  the  terrors  which  had 
been  caused  by  the  invasion  of  the  Cimbri  and  Teu- 
tons. Marius  had  saved  Italy  then  from  destruction, 
as  it  were,  by  the  hair  of  its  head.  The  annihilation 
of  those  hordes  had  given  Rome  a  passing  respite. 
But  fresh  generations  had  grown  up.  Fresh  multi- 
tudes were  streaming  out  of  the  North,  Germans  in 
hundreds  of  thousands  were  again  passing  the  Upper 
Rhine,  rooting  themselves  in  Burgundy,  and  coming 
in  collision  with  tribes  which  Rome  protected.  There 
were  uneasy  movements  among  the  Gauls  themselves, 
whole  nations  of  them  breaking  up  from  their  homes 
and  again  adrift  upon  the  world.  Gaul  and  Germany 
were  like  a  volcano  giving  signs  of  approaching  erup- 
tion ;  and,  at  any  moment  and  hardly  with  warning, 
another  lava  stream  might  be  pouring  down  into 
Venetia  and  Lombardy. 

To  deal  with  this  danger  was  the  work  marked  out 
for  CaBsar.  It  is  the  fashion  to  say  that  he  sought  a 
military  command  that  he  might  have  an  army  be- 
hind him  to  overthrow  the  constitution.  If  this  was 
his  object,  ambition  never  chose  a  more  dangerous 
or  less  promising  route  for  himself.  Men  of  genius 
who  accomplish  great  things  in  this  world  do  not 
trouble  themselves  with  remote  and  visionary  aims. 
They  encounter  emergencies  as  they  rise,  and  leave 


200  Cmar, 

the  future  to  shape  itself  as  it  may.  It  would  seem 
that  at  first  the  defence  of  Italy  was  all  that  was 
thought  of.  "  The  woods  and  forests  "  were  set  aside, 
and  Caesar,  by  a  vote  of  the  people,  was  given  the 
command  of  Cisalpine  Gaul  and  Illyria  for  five  years ; 
but  either  he  himself  desired,  or  especial  circum- 
stances which  were  taking  place  beyond  the  mount- 
ains recommended,  that  a  wider  scope  should  be  al- 
lowed him.  The  Senate,  finding  that  the  people 
would  act  without  them  if  they  hesitated,  gave  him 
in  addition  Gallia  Comata,  the  land  of  the  Gauls  with 
the  long  hair,  the  governorship  of  the  Roman  prov- 
ince beyond  the  Alps,  with  untrammelled  liberty  to 
act  as  he  might  think  good,  throughout  the  country 
which  is  now  known  as  France  and  Switzerland  and 
the  Rhine  provinces  of  Germany. 

He  was  to  start  early  in  the  approaching  year.  It 
was  necessary  before  he  went  to  make  some  provision 
for  the  quiet  government  of  the  capital.  The  alliance 
with  Pompey  and  Crassus  gave  temporary  security. 
Pompey  had  less  stability  of  character  than  could 
have  been  wished,  but  he  became  attached  to  Cae- 
sar's daughter  Julia;  and  a  fresh  link  of  marriage 
was  formed  to  hold  them  together.  Caesar  himself 
married  Calpurnia,  the  daughter  of  Calpurnius  Piso. 
The .  Senate  having  temporarily  abdicated,  he  was 
able  to  guide  the  elections ;  and  Piso,  and  Pompey's 
friend  Gabinius,  who  had  obtained  the  command  of 
the  pirate  war  for  him,  were  chosen  consuls  for  the 
year  58.  Neither  of  them,  if  we  can  believe  a  tithe 
of  Cicero's  invective,  was  good  for  much ;  but  they 
were  staunch  partisans  and  were  to  be  relied  on  to  re- 
sist any  efforts  which  might  be  made  to  repeal  the 
'*  Leges  Julise."     These  matters  being  arranged,  and 


Cicero's  Grievan:e8.  201 

his  own  term  having  expired,  Caesar  withdrew,  ac- 
cording to  custom,  to  the  suburbs  beyond  the  walls  to 
collect  troops  and  prepare  for  his  departure.  Strange 
things,  however,,  had  yet  to  happen  before  he  was 
gone. 

It  is  easy  to  conceive  how  the  Senate  felt  at  these 
transactions,  how  ill  they  bore  to  find  them- 
selves superseded,  and  the  State  managed 
over  their  heads.  Fashionable  society  was  equally 
furious,  and  the  three  allies  went  by  the  name  of 
Dynasts,  or  "Reges  Superbi."  After  resistance  had 
been  abandoned,  Cicero  came  back  to  Rome  to  make 
cynical  remarks  from  which  all  parties  suffered  equally. 
His  special  grievance  was  the  want  of  consideration 
which  he  conceived  to  have  been  shown  for  himself. 
He  mocked  at  the  Senate ;  he  mocked  at  Bibulus, 
whom  he  particularly  abominated ;  he  mocked  at 
Pompey  and  the  Agrarian  law.  Mockery  turned  to 
indignation  when  he  thought  of  the  ingratitude  of  the 
Senate,  and  his  chief  consolation  in  their  discomfiture 
was  that  it  had  fallen  on  them  through  the  neglect  of 
their  most  distinguished  member.  "  I  could  have 
saved  them,  if  they  would  have  let  me,"  he  said.  "  I 
could  save  them  still,  if  I  were  to  try  ;  but  I  will  go 
study  philosophy  in  my  own  family."  ^  "  Freedom 
is  gone,"  he  wrote  to  Atticus  ;  "  and  if  we  are  to  be 
worse  enslaved,  we  shall  bear  it.  Our  lives  and 
properti'es  are  more  to  us  than  liberty.  We  sigh, 
and  we  do  not  even  remonstrate."  ^ 

Cato,  in  the  desperation  of  passion,  called  Pompey 

>•   To  Atticus,  ii.  16. 

2  "  Tenemur  undique,  neque  jam,  quo  minus  serviamus,  recusamus,  sed 
mortem  et  ejectionem  quasi  raajora  timeraus  quoe  multo  sunt  minora.  At- 
que  hie  status,  qui  una  voce  omnium  gemitur  neque  verbo  cujusdam  sub* 
levatur."—  fb.  ii.  18. 


202  Ccesar, 

a  Dictator  -in  the  assembly,  and  barely  escaped  being 
killed  for  his  pains.^  The  patricians  revenged  them- 
Belves  in  private  by  savage  speeches  and  plots  and 
purposes.  Fashionable  society  gathered  in  the  thea- 
tres, and  hissed  the  popular  leaders.  Lines  were  in- 
troduced into  the  plays  reflecting  on  Pompey,  and 
were  encored  a  thousand  times.  Bibulus  from  his 
closet  continued  to  issue  venomous  placards,  report- 
ing scandals  about  Csesar's  life,  and  now  for  the  first 
time  bringing  up  the  story  of  Nicomedes.  The 
streets  were  impassable  where  these  papers  were 
pasted  up,  from  the  crowds  of  loungers  which  were 
gathered  to  read  them,  and  Bibulus  for  the  moment 
was  the  hero  of  patrician  saloons.  Some  malicious 
comfort  Cicero  gathered  out  of  these  manifestations 
of  feeling.  He  had  no  belief  in  the  noble  lords,  and 
small  expectations  from  them.  Bibulus  was,  on  the 
whole,  a  fit  representative  for  the  gentry  of  the  fish- 
ponds. But  the  Dynasts  were  at  least  heartily  de- 
tested in  quarters  which  had  once  been  powerful,  and 
might  be  powerful  again  ;  and  he  flattered  himself, 
though  he  affected  to  regret  it,  that  the  animosity 
against  them  was  spreading.  To  all  parties  there  is 
attached  a  draggled  trail  of  disreputables,  who  hold 
♦^^hemselves  entitled  to  benefits  when  their  side  is  in 
power,  and  are  angry  when  they  are  passed  over. 

"  The  State,"  Cicero  wrote  in  the  autumn  of  59  to 
Atticus,  "  is  in  a  worse  condition  than  when  you  left 
us;  then  we  thought  that  we  had  fallen  under  a 
power  which  pleased  the  people,  and  which,  though 
abhorrent  to  the  good,  yet  was  not  totally  destructive 

1  "  In  concionem  ascendit  et  Pompeium  privatus  Dictatorem  appellavit 
P"opius  nihil  est  factum  quam  ut  occideretur."  —  Cicero,  Ad  Qidntum 
Fratremy  i.  2. 


Roman  Factions.  203 

to  them.  Now  all  hate  it  equally,  and  we  are  in 
terror  as  to  where  the  exasperation  may  break  out. 
We  had  experienced  the  ill-temper  and  irritation  of 
those  who  in  their  anger  with  Cato  had  brought  ruin 
on  us ;  but  the  poison  worked  so  slowly  that  it 
seemed  we  might  die  without  pain.  —  I  hoped,  as  x 
often  told  you,  that  the  wheel  of  the  constitution  waa 
so  turning  that  we  should  scarcely  hear  a  sound  or 
see  any  visible  track;  and  so  it  would  have  been, 
could  men  have  waited  for  the  tempest  to  pass  over 
them.  But  the  secret  sighs  turned  to  groans,  and 
the  groans  to  universal  clamor ;  and  thus  our  friend 
Pompey,  who  so  lately  swam  in  glory,  and  never 
heard  an  evil  word  of  himself,  is  broken-hearted,  and 
knows  not  whither  to  turn.  A  precipice  is  before  him, 
and  to  retreat  is  dangerous.  The  good  are  against 
him  —  the  bad  are  not  his  friends.  I  could  scarce 
help  weeping  the  other  day  when  I  heard  him  com- 
plaining in  the  Forum  of  the  publications  of  Bibulus. 
He  who  but  a  short  time  since  bore  himself  so 
proudly  there,'  with  the  people  in  raptures  with  him, 
and  with  the  world  on  his  side,  was  now  so  humble 
and  abject  as  to  disgust  even  himself,  not  to  say  his 
hearers.  Crassus  enjoyed  the  scene,  but  no  one  else. 
Pompey  had  fallen  down  out  of  the  stars  —  not  by  a 
gradual  descent,  but  in  a  single  plunge ;  and  as 
Apelles  if  he  had  seen  his  Venus,  or  Protogenes  his 
I^lysus,  all  daubed  with  mud,  would  have  been  vexed 
and  annoyed,  so  was  I  grieved  to  the  very  heart  to  see 
one  whom  I  had  painted  out  in  the  choicest  colors  of 
art  thus  suddenly  defaced.^  —  Pompey  is  sick  with 

1  To  Atticus,  ii.  21.  In  this  comparison  Cicero  betrays  his  naive  con- 
viction that  Pompey  was  indebted  to  him  and  to  his  praises  for  his  reputa- 
iion.  Here,  as  always,  Cicero  was  himself  the  centre  round  which  all  else 
revolved  ^r  ought  to  revolve. 


204  Ccesar. 

irritation  at  the  placards  of  Bibulus.  I  am  sorry 
about  them.  They  give  such  excessive  annoyance  to 
a  man  whom  I  have  always  liked  ;  and  Pompey  is  so 
prompt  with  his  sword,  and  so  unaccustomed  to  in- 
sult, that  I  fear  what  he  may  do.  What  th^  future 
may  have  in  store  for  Bibulus  I  know  not.  At  pres- 
ent he  is  the  admired  of  all."  ^ 

"  Sampsiceramus,"  Cicero  wrote  a  few  days  later, 
"  is  greatly  penitent.  He  would  gladly  be  restored 
to  the  eminence  from  which  he  has  fallen.  Some- 
times he  imparts  his  griefs  to  me,  and  asks  me  what 
-he  should  do,  which  I  cannot  tell  him."  2 

Unfortunate  Cicero,  who  knew  what  was  right,  but 
was  too  proud  to  do  it  I  Unfortunate  Pompey,  who 
still  did  what  was  right,  but  was  too  sensitive  to  bear 
the  reproach  of  it,  who  would  so  gladly  not  leave  his 
duty  unperformed,  and  yet  keep  the  "  sweet  voices  " 
whose  applause  had  grown  so  delicious  to  him ! 
Bibulus  was  in  no  danger.  Pompey  was  too  good- 
natured  to  hurt  him  ;  and  Caesar  let  fools  say  what 
they  pleased,  as  long  as  they  were  fools  without 
teeth,  who  would  bark  but  could  not  bite.  The  risk 
was  to  Cicero  himself,  little  as  he  seemed  to  be  aware 
of  it.  Csesar  was  to  be  long  absent  from  Rome,  and 
he  knew  that  as  soon  as  he  was  engaged  in  Gaul  the 
extreme  oligarchic  faction  would  make  an  effort  to 
set  aside  his  Land  commission  and  undo  his  legisla- 
tion. When  he  had  a  clear  purpose  in  view,  and 
was  satisfied  that  it  was  a  good  purpose,  he  was 
uever  scrupulous  about  his  instruments.  It  was  said 
of  him  that,  when  he  wanted  any  work  done,  he 
chose  the  persons  best  able  to  do  it,  let  their  general 
sharacter  be  what  it  might.     The  rank  and  file  of 

1  To  Attiais,  ii.  21.  2  75.  ii.  22. 


aodius.      '  206 

the  patricians,  proud,  idle,  vicious,  and  self-indulgent, 
might  be  left  to  their  mistresses  and  their  gaming 
tables.  They  could  do  no  mischief,  unless  they  had 
leaders  at  their  head,  who  could  use  their  repources 
more  effectively  than  they  could  do  themselves.  There 
were  two  men  only  in  Rome  with  whose  help  they 
could  be  really  dangerous  - —  Cato,  because  he  was  a 
fanatic,  impregnable  to  argument,  and  not  to  be  in- 
fluenced by  temptation  of  advantage  to  himself; 
Cicero,  on  accuant  of  his  extreme  ability,  his  per- 
sonal ambition,  and  his  total  want  of  political  prin- 
ciple. Cato  he  knew  to  be  impracticable.  Cicero 
he  had  tried  to  gain  ;  but  Cicero,  who  had  played  a 
first  part  as  consul,  could  not  bring  himself  to  play  a 
second,  and,  if  the  chance  offered,  had  both  power 
and  will  to  be  troublesome.  Some  means  had  to  be 
found  to  get  rid  of  these  two,  or  at  least  to  tie  their 
hands  and  so  keep  them  in  order.  There  would  be 
Pompey  and  Crassus  still  at  hand.  But  Pompey 
was  weak,  and  Crassus  understood  nothing  beyond 
the  art  of  manipulating  money.  Gabinius  and  Piso, 
the  next  consuls,  had  an  indifferent  reputation  and 
narrow  abilities,  and  at  best  they  would  have  but 
their  one  year  of  authority.  Politics,  like  love,  make 
strange  bedfellows.  In  this  difficulty  accident  threw 
■  n  Caesar's  way  a  convenient  but  most  unexpected 
ally. 

Young  Clodius,  after  his  escape  from  prosecution 
by  the  marvellous  methods  which  Crassus  had  pro- 
vided for  him,  was  more  popular  than  ever.  He  had 
been  the  occasion  of  a  scandal  which  had  brought  in- 
famy on  the  detested  Senate.  His  offence  in  itself 
seemed  slight  in  so  loose  an  sge  and  was  as  nothing 
compared  with  the  enormity  di  his  judges.     He  had 


206  Ccemr, 

come  out  of  his  trial  with  a  determination  to  be  re- 
venged on  the  persons  from  whose  tongues  he  had 
suffered  most  severely  in  the  senatorial  debates.  Of 
these  Cato  had  been  the  most  savage  ;  but  Cicero 
had  been  the  most  exasperating,  from  his  sarcasms, 
his  airs  of  patronage,  and  perhaps  his  intimacy  with 
his  sister.  The  noble  youth  had  exhausted  the  com- 
mon forms  of  pleasure.  He  wanted  a  new  excite- 
ment, and  politics  and  vengeance  might  be  combined. 
He  was  as  clever  as  he  was  dissolute,  and,  as  clever 
men  are  fortunately  rare  in  the  licentious  part  of  so- 
ciety, they  are  always  idolized,  because  they  make 
vice  respectable  by  connecting  it  with  intellect.  Clo- 
dius  was  a  second,  an  abler  Catiline,  equally  unprin- 
cipled and  far  more  dexterous  and  prudent.  In  times 
r,f  revolution  there  is  always  a  disreputable  wing  to 
the  radical  party,  composed  of  men  who  are  the  nat- 
ural enemies  of  established  authority,  and  these  all 
rallied  about  their  new  leader  with  devout  enthusi- 
asm. Clodius  was  not  without  political  experience. 
His  first  public  appearance  had  been  as  leader  of  a 
mutiny.  He  was  already  quaestor,  and  so  a  Senator ; 
but  he  was  too  young  to  aspire  to  the  higher  magis- 
Vracies  which  were  open  to  him  as  a  patrician.  He 
declared  his  intention  of  renouncing  his  order,  becom- 
ing a  plebeian,  and  standing  for  the  tribuneship  of  the 
people.  There  were  precedents  for  such  a  step,  but 
they  were  rare.  The  abdicating  noble  had  to  be 
adopted  into  a  plebeian  family,  and  the  consent  was 
required  of  the  consuls  and  of  the  Pontifical  College. 
With  the  gTowth  of  political  equality  the  aristocracy 
had  become  more  insistent  upon  the  privilege  of 
birth,  which  could  not  be  taken  from  them  ;  and  for 
a  Claudius  to  descend  among  the  canaille  was  as  if  a 


Olodius  chosen  Tribune,  207 

Howard  were  to  seek  adoption  from  a  shopkeeper  in 
the  Strand. 

At  first  there  was  universal  amazement.  Cioero 
had  used  the  intrigue  with  Pompeia  as  a  text  for  a 
sermon  on  the  immoralities  of  the  age.  The  aspi- 
rations of  Clodius  to  be  a  tribune  he  ridiculed  as  an 
illustration  of  its  follies,  and  after  scourging  him  in 
the  Senate,  he  laughed  at  him  and  jested  with  him 
in  private.^  Cicero  did  not  understand  with  how 
venomous  a  snake  he  was  playing.  He  even  thought 
Clodius  likely  to  turn  against  the  Dynasts,  and  to 
become  a  serviceable  member  of  the  conservative 
party.  Gradually  he  was  forced  to  open  his  eyes. 
Speeches  were  reported  to  him  as  coming  from  Clo- 
dius or  his  allies  threatening  an  inquiry  into  the 
death  of  the  Catilinarians.  At  first  he  pushed  his 
alarms  aside,  as  unworthy  of  him.  What  had  so 
great  a  man  as  he  to  fear  from  a  young  reprobate 
like  "  the  pretty  boy  "  ?  The  "  pretty  boy,"  how- 
ever, found  favor  where  it  was  least  looked  for. 
Pompey  supported  his  adventure  for  the  tribuneship. 
Caesar,  though  it  was  Caesar's  house  which  he  had 
violated,  did  not  oppose.  Bibulus  refused  consent, 
but  Bibulus  had  virtually  abdicated  and  went  for 
nothing.  The  legal  forms  were  complied  with.  Clo- 
dius found  a  commoner  younger  than  himself  who 
was  willing  to  adopt  him,  and  who,  the  day  after  the 
ceremony,  released  him  from  the  new  paternal  au- 
thority. He  was  now  a  plebeian,  and  free.  He  re- 
mained a  senator  in  virtue  of  his  quaestorship,  and  he 
was  chosen  tribune  of  the  people  for  the  year  58. 

Cicero  was  at  last  startled  out  of  his  security.  So 
long  as  the  consuls,   or  one  of  them,  could  be  de- 

l  "Jam  familiariter  cum  illo  etiam  caviller  ac  jocor."  —  To  Atticus,  ii.  1. 


208  Cmar, 

pended  on,  a  tribune's  power  was  insignificant. 
When  tlie  consuls  were  of  his  own  way  of  thinking, 
a  tribune  was  a  very  important  personage  indeed. 
Atticus  was  alarmed  for  his  friend,  and  cautioned 
him  to  look  to  himself.  Warnings  came  from  all 
quarters  that  mischief  was  in  the  wind.  Still  it  was 
impossible  to  believe  the  peril  to  be  a  real  one.  Cic- 
ero, to  whom  Rome  owed  its  existence,  to  be  struck 
at  by  a  Clodius  !  It  could  not  be.  As  little  could  a 
wasp  hurt  an  elephant. 

There  can  be  little  doubt  that  Caesar  knew  what 
Clodius  lijjd  in  his  mind ;  or  that,  if  the  design  was 
not  his  own,  he  had  purposely  allowed  it  to  go  for- 
ward. Csesar  did  not  wish  to  hurt  Cicero.  He 
wished  well  to  him,  and  admired  him  ;  but  he  did 
not  mean  to  leave  him  free  in  Rome  to  lead  a  sena- 
torial reaction.  A  prosecution  for  the  execution  of 
the  prisoners  was  now  distinctly  announced.  Cicero 
as  consul  had  put  to  death  Roman  citizens  without  a 
trial.  Cicero  was  to  be  called  to  answer  for  the  il- 
legality before  the  sovereign  people.  The  danger 
was  unmistakable  ;  and  Caesar,  who  was  still  in  the 
suburbs  making  his  preparations,  invited  Cicero  to 
avoid  it,  by  accompanying  him  as  second  in  command 
into  Gaul.  The  offer  was  made  in  unquestionable 
sincerity.  Caesar  may  himself  have  created  the  sit- 
uation to  lay  Cicero  under  a  pressure,  but  he  desired 
nothing  so  much  as  to  take  him  as  his  companion, 
and  to  attach  him  to  himself.  Cicero  felt  the  compli- 
ment and  hesitated  to  refuse,  but  his  pride  again 
came  in  his  way.  Pompey  assured  him  that  not  a 
hair  of  his  head  should  be  touched.  Why  Pompey 
gave  him  this  encouragement,  Cicero  could  never 
afterwards  understand.     The  scenes  in  the  theatres 


Prosecution  of  Cicero.  209 

had  also  combined  to  mislead  him,  and  he  misread 
the  disposition  of  the  great  body  of  citizens.  He 
imagined  that  they  would  all  start  up  in  his  defence, 
Senate,  aristocracy,  knights,  commoners,  and  trades- 
men. The  world,  he  thought,  looked  back  upon  his 
consulship  with  as  much  admiration  as  he  did  him- 
self, and  was  always  contrasting  him  with  his  suc- 
cessors. Never  was  mistake  more  profound.  The 
Senate,  who  had  envied  his  talents  and  resented  his 
assumption,  now  despised  him  as  a  trimmer.  His  sar- 
casms had  made  him  enemies  among  those  who  acted 
with  him  politically.  He  had  held  aloof  at,  the  crisis 
of  Cgesar's  election  and  in  the  debates  which  fol- 
lowed, and  therefore  all  sides  distrusted  him  ;  while 
throughout  the  body  of  the  people  there  was,  as  Cae- 
sar had  foretold,  a  real  and  sustained  resentment  at 
the  conduct  of  the  Catiline  affair.  The  final  opinion 
of  Rome  was  that  the  prisoners  ought  to  have  been 
tried  ;  and  that  they  were  not  tried  was  attributed 
not  unnaturally  to  a  desire,  on  the  part  of  the  Sen- 
ate, to  silence  an  inquiry  which  might  have  proved 
inconvenient. 

Thus  suddenly  out  of  a  clear  sky  the  thunder-clouds 
gathered  over  Cicero's  head.  "  Clodius,"  says  Dion 
Cassius,  "had  discovered  that  among  the  senators 
Cicero  was  more  feared  than  loved.  There  were  few 
of  them  who  had  not  been  hit  by  his  irony,  or  irri- 
tated by  his  presumption."  Those  who  most  agreed 
in  what  he  had  done  were  not  ashamed  to  shuffle  off 
upon  him  their  responsibilities.  Clodius,  now  om- 
nipotent with  the  assembly  at  his  back,  cleared  the 
way  by  a  really  useful  step ;  he  carried  a  law  abolish- 
ng  the  impious  form  of  declaring  the  heavens  unfa- 
vorable when   an  inconvenient  measure  was  to   be 

14 


210  Cce8ar. 

stopped  or  delayed.  Probably  it  formed  a  part  of  hia 
engagement  with  Cassar.  The  law  may  have  been 
meant  to  act  retrospectively,  to  prevent  a  question 
being  raised  on  the  interpellations  of  Bibulus.  This 
done,  and  without  paying  the  Senate  the  respect  of 
first  consulting  it,  he  gave  notice  that  he  would  pro- 
pose a  vote  to  the  assembly,  to  the  effect  that  any 
person  who  had  put  to  death  a  Roman  citizen  without 
trial,  and  without  allowing  him  an  appeal  to  the  peo- 
ple, had  violated  the  constitution  of  the  State.  Cicero 
was  not  named  directly ;  every  senator  who  had  voted 
for  the  execution  of  Cethegus  and  Lentulus  and  their 
companions  was  as  guilty  as  he ;  but  it  was  known 
immediately  that  Cicero  was  the  mark  that  was  being 
aimed  at ;  ai]d  Caesar  at  once  renewed  the  offer,  which 
he  made  before,  to  take  Cicero  with  him.  Cicero, 
now  frightened  in  earnest,  still  could  not  bring  him- 
self to  owe  his  escape  to  Csesar.  The  Senate,  un- 
grateful as  they  had  been,  put  on  mourning  with  an 
affectation  of  dismay.  The  knights  petitioned  the 
consuls  to  interfere  for  Cicero's  protection.  The  con- 
suls declined  to  receive  their  request.  Caesar  outside 
the  city  gave  no  further  sign.  A  meeting  of  the  citi- 
zens was  held  in  the  camp.  Caesar's  opinion  was  in- 
vited. He  said  that  he  had  not  changed  bis  senti- 
ments. He  had  remonstrated  at  the  time  against  the 
execution.  He  disapproved  of  it  still,  but  he  did  not 
directly  advise  legislation  upon  acts  that  were  passed. 
Yet  though  he  did  not  encourage  Clodius,  he  did  not 
interfere.  He  left  the  matter  to  the  consuls,  and  one 
of  them  was  his  own  father-in-law,  and  the  other  was 
Gabinius,  once  Pompey's  favorite  oflBcer.  Gabinius, 
Cicero  thought,  would  respect  Pompey's  promise  to 
him.     To  Piso  he  made  a  personal  appeal.     He  found 


Prosecution  of  Cicero.  211 

him,  he  said  afterwards,^  at  eleven  in  the  morning,  in 
his  slippers,  at  a  low  tavern.  Piso  came  out,  reeking 
with  wine,  and  excused  himself  by  saying  that  his 
health  required  a  morning  draught.  Cicero  attempted 
to  receive  his  apology ;  and  he  stood  for  a  while  at 
the  tavern  door,  till  he  could  no  longer  bear  the  smell 
and  the  foul  language  and  expectorations  of  the  con- 
sul. Hope  in  that  quarter  there  was  none.  Two 
days  later  the  assembly  was  called  to  consider  Clo- 
dius's  proposal.  Piso  was  asked  to  say  what  he 
thought  of  the  treatment  of  the  conspirators ;  he  an- 
swered gravely,  and,  as  Cicero  described  him,  with 
one  eye  in  his  forehead,  that  he  disapproved  of  cruelty. 
Neither  Pompey  nor  his  friends  came  to  help.  What 
was  Cicero  to  do  ?  Resist  by  force  ?  The  young 
knights  rallied  about  him  eager  for  a  fight,  if  he  would 
but  give  the  word.  Sometimes  as  he  looked  back  in 
after  years  he  blamed  himself  for  declining  their  serv- 
ices, sometimes  he  took  credit  to  himself  for  refusing 
to  be  the  occasion  of  bloodshed.^ 

"  I  was  too  timid,"  he  said  once  ;  "  I  had  the  coun- 
try with  me,  and  I  should  have  stood  firm.  I  had  to 
do  with  a  band  of  villains  only,  with  two  monsters  of 
consuls,  and  with  the  male  harlot  of  rich  buffoons,  the 
seducer  of  his  sister,  and  the  high  priest  of  adultery, 
a  poisoner,  a  forger,  an  assassin,  a  thief.  The  best 
and  bravest  citizens  implored  me  to  stand  up  to  him. 
But  I  reflected  that  this  Fury  asserted  that  he  was 
supported  by  Pompey  and  Crassus  and  CaBsar.  Caesar 
had  an  army  at  the  gates.  The  other  two  could  raise 
another  army  when  they  pleased;  and  when  they 
knew  that  their  names  were  thus  made  use  of,  they 

1  Oratio  in  L.  Pisonem. 

2  He  seems  to  have  even  thought  of  suicide.  —  To  Atticus,  iii  9. 


212  Ccesar. 

remained  silent.  They  were  alarmed  perhaps,  be- 
cause the  laws  which  they  had  carried  in  the  preced- 
ing year  were  challenged  by  the  new  praetors,  and 
were  held  by  the  Senate  to  be  invalid ;  and  they  were 
unwilling  to  alienate  a  popular  tribune."  ^ 

And  again  elsewhere :  "  When  I  saw  that  the  fac- 
tion of  Catiline  was  in  power,  that  the  party  which  I 
had  led,  some  from  envy  of  myself,  some  from  fear 
for  their  own  lives,  had  betrayed  and  deserted  me; 
when  the  two  consuls  had  been  purchased  by  promises 
of  provinces,  and  had  gone  over  to  my  enemies,  and 
the  condition  of  the  bargain  was,  that  I  was  to  be 
delivered  over,  tied  and  bound,  to  my  enemies ;  when 
the  Senate  and  knights  were  in  mourning,  but  were 
not  allowed  to  bring  my  cause  before  the  people ; 
when  my  blood  had  been  made  the  seal  of  the  ar- 
rangement under  which  the  State  had  been  disposed 
of;  when  I  saw  all  this,  although  'the  good'  were 
ready  to  fight  for  me,  and  were  willing  to  die  for  me, 
I  would  not  consent,  because  I  saw  that  victory  or  de- 
feat would  alike  bring  ruin  to  the  Commonwealth. 
The  Senate  was  powerless.  The  Forum  was  ruled  by 
violence.     In  such,  a  city  there  was  no  place  for  me."  ^ 

So  Cicero,  as  he  looked  back  afterwards,  described 
the  struggle  in  his  own  mind.  His  friends  had  then 
rallied ;  Csesar  was  far  away ;  and  he  could  tell  his 
own  story,  and  could  pile  his  invectives  on  those  who 
had  injured  him.  His  matchless  literary  power  has 
given  him  exclusive  command  over  the  history  of  his 
time.  His  enemies'  characters  have  been  accepted 
from  his  pen  as  correct  portraits.  If  we  allow  his 
description  of  Clodius  and  the  two  consuls  to  be  true 

1  Abridged  from  the  Oratiopro  P.  Sextio. 

2  Oraiio  post  reditum  ad  Quirites. 


Banishment  of  Cicero,  213 

to  the  facts,  what  harder  condemnation  can  be  pro- 
nounced against  a  political  condition  in  which  such 
men  as  these  could  be  raised  to  the  first  position  in 
the  State  ?i  Dion  says  that  Cicero's  resolution  to 
yield  did  not  wholly  proceed  from  his  own  prudence, 
but  was  assisted  by  advice  from  Cato  and  Hortensius 
the  orator.  Anyway,  the  blow  fell,  and  he  went  down 
before  the  stroke.  His  immortal  consulship,  in  praise 
of  which  he  had  written  a  poem,  brought  after  it  the 
swift  retribution  which  Caesar  had  foretold.  When 
the  vote  proposed  by  Clodius  was  carried,  he  fled  to 
Sicily,  with  a  tacit  confession  that  he  dared  not  abide 
his  trial,  which  would  immediately  have  followed. 
Sentence  was  pronounced  upon  him  in  his  absence. 
His  property  was  confiscated.  His  houses  in  town 
and  country  were  razed.  The  site  of  his  palace  in 
Rome  was  dedicated  to  the  Goddess  of  Liberty,  and 
he  himself  was  exiled.  He  was  forbidden  to  reside 
within  four  hundred  miles  of  Rome,  with  a  threat  of 
death  if  he  returned ;  and  he  retired  to  Macedonia, 
to  pour  out  his  sorrows  and  his  resentments  in  lamen- 
tations unworthy  of  a  woman. 

1  In  a  letter  to  his  brother  Quintus,  written  at  a  time  when  he  did  not 
know  the  real  feelings  of  Caesar  and  Pompey,  and  had  supposed  that  he 
had  only  to  deal  with  Clodius,  Cicero  announced  a  distinct  intention  of 
resisting  by  force.  He  expected  that  the  whole  of  Italy  would  be  at  his 
Bide.  He  said  :  "  Si  diem  nobis  Clodius  dixerit,  tota  Italia  concurret,  ut 
multiplicata  gloria  discedamus.  Sin  autem  vi  agere  conabitur,  spero  fore, 
studiis  non  solum  amicorum,  sedetiam  alienorum,  ut  vi  resistamus.  Omnes 
et  se  et  suos  liberos,  amicos,  clientes,  libertos,  servos,  pecunias  denique  suaa 
pollicentur.  Nostra  antiqua  manus  bonorum  ardet  studio  nostri  atque 
amore.  Si  qui  antea  aut  alieniores  fuerant,  aut  languidiores,  nunc  horum 
regum  odio  se  cum  bonis  conjungunt.  Pompeius  omnia  pollicetur  et  Cajsar, 
de  quibus  ita  credo,  ut  nihil  de  mea  comparatione  deminuam."  —  Ad  Qmm». 
turn  Fratrem,  i.  2. 


CHAPTER  XIV. 

From  the  fermentation  of  Roman  politics,  the  pas- 
sions of  the  Forum  and  Senate,  the  corrupt 
tribunals,  the  poisoned  centre  of  the  Empire, 
the  story  passes  beyond  the  frontier  of  Italy.  We 
no  longer  depend  for  our  account  of  Caesar  on  the 
caricatures  of  rival  statesmen.  He  now  becomes  him- 
self our  guide.  We  see  him  in  his  actions  and  in  the 
picture  of  his  personal  character  which  he  has  uncon- 
sciously drawn.  Like  all  real  great  men,  he  rarely 
speaks  of  himself.  He  tells  us  little  or  nothing  of 
his  own  feelings  or  his  own  purposes.  Cicero  never 
forgets  his  individuality.  In  every  line  that  he  wrote 
Cicero  was  attitudinizing  for  posterity,  or  reflecting 
on  the  effect  of  his  conduct  upon  his  interests  or  his 
reputation.  Caesar  is  lost  in  his  work ;  his  person- 
ality is  scarcely  more  visible  than  Shakespeare's.  He 
was  now  forty-three  years  old.  His  abstemious  habits 
had  left  his  health  unshaken.  He  was  in  the  fullest 
vigor  of  mind  and  body,  and  it  was  well  for  him  that 
his  strength  had  not  been  undermined.  He  was  going 
on  an  expedition  which  would  make  extraordinary 
demands  upon  his  energies.  That  he  had  not  con- 
templated operations  so  extended  as  those  which  were 
forced  upon  him  is  evident  from  the  nature  of  his 
preparations.  His  command  in  Further  Gaul  had 
been  an  afterthought,  occasioned  probably  by  news 
which  had  been  received  of  movements  in  progress 
there   during   his  consulship.     Of   the   four   legions 


Ancient  Gauh  215 

"which  were  allowed  to  him,  one  only  was  beyond  the 
Alps ;  three  were  at  Aquileia.  It  was  late  in  life 
for  him  to  begin  the  trade  of  a  soldier ;  and  as  yet, 
with  the  exception  of  his  early  service  in  Asia,  and  a 
brief  and  limited  campaign  in  Spain  when  pro-prse- 
tor,  he  had  no  military  experience  at  all.  His  ambi- 
tion hitherto  had  not  pointed  in  that  direction;  nor 
is  it  likely  that  a  person  of  so  strong  an  understand- 
ing would  have  contemplated  beforehand  the  deliber- 
ate undertaking  of  the  gigantic  war  into  which  cir- 
cumstances immediately  forced  him.  Yet  he  must 
have  known  that  he  had  to  deal  with  a  problem  of 
growing  difficulty.  The  danger  to  Italy  from  inroads 
across  the  Alps  was  perpetually  before  the  minds  of 
thoughtful  Roman  statesmen.  Events  were  at  that 
moment  taking  place  among  the  Gallic  tribes  which 
gave  point  to  the  general  uneasiness.  And,  unwilling 
as  the  Romans  were  to  extend  their  frontiers  and 
their  responsibilities  in  a  direction  so  unknown  and 
so  unpromising,  yet  some  interference  either  by  arms 
or  by  authority  beyond  those  existing  limits  was  be- 
ing pressed  upon  them  in  self-defence. 

The  Transalpine  Gaul  of  CaBsar  was  the  country 
included  between  the  Rhine,  the  ocean,  the  Pyrenees, 
the  Mediterranean,  and  the  Alps.  Within  these  lim- 
its, including  Switzerland,  there  was  at  this  time  a 
population  vaguely  estimated  at  six  or  seven  millions. 
The  Roman  Province  stretched  along  the  coast  to  the 
Spanish  border  ;  it  was  bounded  on  the  north  by  the 
Cevennes  Mountains,  and  for  some  generations  by 
the  Is^re ;  but  it  had  been  found  necessary  lately  ^  to 
annex  the  territory  of  the  AUobroges  (Dauphin^  and 
Savoy),  and  the  proconsular  authority  was  now  ex* 

1  Perhaps  in  consequence  of  the  Catiline  conspiracy. 


216  Cmar, 

tended  to  within  a  few  miles  of  Geneva.  The  rest 
was  divided  into  three  sections,  inhabited  by  races 
which,  if  allied,  were  distinctly  different  in  language, 
laws,  and  institutions.  The  Aquitani,  who  were  con- 
nected with  the  Spaniards  or  perhaps  the  Basques, 
held  the  country  between  the  Pyrenees  and  the  Ga- 
ronne. The  Belgse,  whom  Caesar  believed  to  have 
been  originally  Germans,  extended  from  the  mouth 
of  the  Seine  to  the  mouth  of  the  Rhine,  and  inland 
to  the  Marne  and  Moselle.  The  people  whom  the 
Romans  meant  especially  when  they  spoke  of  Gauls 
occupied  all  the  remainder.  At  one  time  the  Celts 
had  probably  been  masters  of  the  whole  of  France, 
but  had  gradually  yielded  to  encroachment.  Accord- 
ing to  the  Druids,  they  came  out  of  darkness,  ah  Dite 
Patre ;  they  called  themselves  Children  of  Night, 
counting  time  by  nights,  instead  of  days,  as  we  say 
fortnight  and  se'nnight.  Comparison  of  language 
has  taught  us  that  they  were  a  branch  of  the  great 
Aryan  race,  one  of  the  first  which  rolled  westward 
into  Europe,  before  Greeks  or  Latins  had  been 
heard  of. 

This  once  magnificent  people  was  now  in  a  state 
of  change  and  decomposition.  On  Aquitaine  and 
Belgium  Roman  civilization  had  as  yet  produced  no 
effect.  The  severe  habits  of  earlier  generations  re- 
mained unchanged.  The  Gauls  proper  had  yielded 
to  contact  with  the  Province  and  to  intercourse  with 
Italian  traders.  They  had  built  towns  and  villages. 
They  had  covered  the  land  with  farms  and  home- 
steads. They  had  made  roads.  They  had  bridged 
their  rivers,  even  such  rivers  as  the  Rhone  and  the 
Loire.  They  had  amassed  wealth,  and  had  adopted 
habits  of  comparative  luxury,  which,  if  it  had  not 


The  Druids,  217 

abated  their  disposition  to  fight,  had  diminished  their 
capacity  for  fighting.  Their  political  and  perhaps 
their  spiritual  system  was  passing  through  analogous 
transformations.  The  ancient  forms  remained,  but 
an  altered  spirit  was  working  under  them.  From  the 
earliest  antiquity  they  had  been  divided  into  tribes 
and  sub-tribes  :  each  tribe  and  sub-tribe  being  prac- 
tically independent,  or  united  only  by  common  ob- 
jects and  a  common  sentiment  of  race.  The  rule  was 
the  rule  of  the  strong,  under  the  rudest  forms  of 
tribal  organization.  The  chief  was  either  hereditary 
or  elected,  or  won  his  command  by  the  sword.  The 
mass  of  the  people  were  serfs.  The  best  fighters  were 
self-made  nobles,  under  the  chief's  authority.  Every 
man  in  the  tribe  was  the  chief's  absolute  subject; 
the  chief,  in  turn,  was  bound  to  protect  the  meanest 
of  them  against  injury  from  without.  War,  on  a 
large  scale  or  a  small,  had  been  the  occupation  of 
their  lives.  The  son  was  not  admitted  into  his  fath- 
er's presence  till  he  was  old  enough  to  be  a  soldier. 
When  the  call  to  arms  went  out,  every  man  of  the 
required  age  was  expected  at  the  muster,  and  the  last 
comer  was  tortured  to  death  in  the  presence  of  his 
comrades  as  a  lesson  against  backwardness. 

As  the  secular  side  of  things  bore  a  rude  resem- 
blance to  feudalism,  so  on  the  religious  there  was  a 
similar  anticipation  of  the  mediaeval  Catholic  Church. 
The  Druids  were  not  a  special  family,  like  the  Le- 
vites,  or  in  any  way  born  into  the  priesthood.  They 
were  an  order  composed  of  persons  selected,  when 
young,  out  of  the  higher  ranks  of  the  community, 
either  for  speciality  of  intellect,  or  from  disposition, 
or  by  the  will  of  their  parents,  or  from  a  desire  to 
uvoid  military  service,  from  which  the  Druids  were 


218  Ccesar, 

exempt.  There  were  no  tribal  distinctions  among 
them.  Their  headquarters  were  in  Britain,  to  which 
those  who  aspired  to  initiation  in  the  more  profound 
mysteries  repaired  for  -  instruction ;  but  they  were 
spread  universally  over  Gau]  and  the  British  Islands. 
They  were  the  ministers  of  public  worship,  the  de- 
positaries of  knowledge,  and  the  guardians  of  pub- 
lic morality.  Young  men  repaired  to  the  Druids 
for  education.  They  taught  theology ;  they  taught 
the  movements  of  the  stars.  They  presided  in  the 
civil  courts  and  determined  questions  of  disputed  in- 
heritance. They  heard  criminal  cases  and  delivered 
judgment;  and,  as  with  the  Church,  their  heaviest 
and  most  dreaded  punishment  was  excommunication. 
The  excommunicated  person  lost  his  civil  rights. 
He  became  an  outlaw  from  society,  and  he  was  ex- 
cluded from  participation  in  the  sacrifices.  In  the 
religious  services  the  victims  most  acceptable  to  the 
gods  were  human  beings  —  criminals,  if  such  could 
be  had ;  if  not,  then  innocent  persons,  who  were 
burnt  to  death  in  huge  towers  of  wicker.  In  the 
Quemadero  at  Seville,  as  in  our  own  Smithfield,  the 
prisoners  of  the  Church  were  fastened  to  stakes,  and 
the  sticks  with  which  they  were  consumed  were  tied 
into  faggots,  instead  of  being  plaited  into  basket- 
work.  So  slight  a  difference  does  not  materially 
affect  the  likeness. 

The  tribal  chieftainship  and  the  religious  organiza- 
tion of  the  Druids  were  both  of  them  inherited  from 
antiquity.  They  were  institutions  descending  from 
the  time  when  the  Gauls  had  been  a  great  people ; 
but  both  had  outlived  the  age  to  which  they  were 
adapted,  and  one  at  least  was  approaching  its  end. 
To  Cassar's  eye,  coming  new  upon  them,  the  Druids 


The  JEdui.      '  219 

were  an  established  fact,  presenting  no  sign  of  decay , 
but  in  Gaul,  infected  with  Roman  manners,  they  ex- 
isted merely  by  habit,  exercising  no  influence  any 
longer  over  the  hearts  of  the  people.  In  the  great 
struggle  which  was  approaching  we  find  no  Druids 
among  the  national  leaders,  no  spirit  of  religion  in- 
spiring and  consecrating  the  efforts  of  patriotism. 
So  far  as  can  be  seen,  the  Druids  were  on  the  Roman 
side,  or  the  Romans  had  the  skill  to  conciliate  them. 
In  half  a  century  they  were  suppressed  by  Augustus, 
and  they  and  their  excommunications,  and  their  flam- 
ing wicker  works,  had  to  be  sought  for  in  distant 
Britain,  or  in  the  still  more  distant  Ireland.  The 
active  and  secular  leadership  could  not  disappear 
so  easily.  Leaders  of  some  kind  were  still  required 
and  inevitably  found,  but  the  method  of  selection  in 
the  times  which  had  arrived  was  silently  changing. 
While  the  Gallic  nation  retained,  or  desired  to  retain, 
a  kind  of  unity,  some  one  of  the  many  tribes  had 
always  been  allowed  a  hegemony.  The  first  place 
had  rested  generally  with  the  -^dui,  a  considerable 
people  who  occupied  the  central  parts  of  France,  be- 
tween the  Upper  Loire  and  the  Sa6ne.  The  Ro- 
mans, anxious  naturally  to  extend  their  influence  in 
the  country  without  direct  interference,  had  taken 
the  -^dui  under  their  protectorate.  The  JEdui  again 
had  their  clients  in  the  inferior  tribes ;  and  a  Ro- 
man o-^duan  authority  of  a  shadowy  kind  had  thus 
penetrated  through  the  whole  nation. 

But  the  -^duans  had  rivals  and  competitors  in  the 
Sequani,  another  powerful  body  in  Burgundy  and 
Franche-Comt^.  If  the  Romans  feared  the  Gauls, 
the  Gauls  in  turn  feared  the  Romans  ;  and  a  national 
party  had  formed  itself  everywhere,  especially  among 


220  Cceaar. 

the  younger  men,  who  were  proud  of  their  indepen- 
dence, impatient  of  foreign  control,  and  determined  to 
maintain  the  liberties  which  had  descended  to  them. 
To  these  the  Sequani  offered  themselves  as  cham- 
pions. Among  the  jEdui  too  there  were  fiery  spirits 
who  cherished  the  old  traditions,  and  saw  in  the  Ro- 
man alliance  a  prelude  to  annexation.  And  thus  it 
was  that  when  Caesar  was  appointed  to  Gaul,  in  every 
tribe  and  every  sub-tribe,  in  every  village  and  every 
family,  there  were  two  factions,^  each  under  its  own 
captain,  each  struggling  for  supremacy,  each  conspir- 
ing and  fighting  among  themselves,  and  each  seeking 
or  leaning  upon  external  support.  In  many,  if  not 
in  all,  of  the  tribes  there  was  a  senate,  or  council  of 
elders,  and  these  appear  almost  everywhere  to  have 
been  ^duan  and  Roman  in  their  sympathies.  The 
Sequani  as  the  representatives  of  nationalism,  know- 
ing that  they  could  not  stand  alone,  had  looked  for 
friends  elsewhere. 

The  Germans  had  long  turned  covetous  eyes  upon 
the  rich  cornfields  and  pastures  from  which  the  Rhine 
divided  them.  The  Cimbri  and  Teutons  had  been 
but  the  vanguard  of  a  multitude  who  were  eager  to 
follow.  The  fate  of  these  invaders  had  checked  the 
impulse  for  half  a  century,  but  the  lesson  was  now 
forgotten.  Ariovistus,  a  Bavarian  prince,  who  spoke 
Gaelic  like  a  native,  and  had  probably  long  meditated 
conquest,  came  over  into  Franche-Comt^  at  the  invi- 

1  "  In  GalliS,  non  solum  in  omnibus  civitatibus  atque  in  omnibus  pagis 
partibusque  sed  paene  etiam  in  singulis  domibus  factiones  sunt,  earuraque 
factionum  principes  sunt  qui  summam  auctoritatem  eorum  judicio  habere 

existimantur Hsec  est  ratio  in  summ^  totius  Galliae,  namque  omnes 

civitates  in  partes  divisae  sunt  duas.  Cum  Caesar  in  Galliam  venit,  alterius 
factionis  principes  erant  Haedui,  alterius  Sequani."  —  De  Bello  Gallico,  lib. 
ri.  capp.  11,  12. 


The  HelvetiL  221 

tation  of  the  Sequani,  bringing  his  people  with  him. 
The  few  thousand  families  which  were  first  intro- 
duced had  been  followed  by  fresh  detachments ;  they 
had  attacked  and  beaten  the  JEdui,  out  of  whose  ter- 
ritories they  intended  to  carve  a  settlement  for  them- 
selves. They  had  taken  hostages  from  them,  and 
had  broken  down  their  authority,  and  the  faction  of 
the  Sequani  was  now  everywhere  in  the  ascendant. 
The  ^dui,  three  years  before  Caesar  came,  had  ap- 
pealed to  Rome  for  assistance,  and  the  Senate  had 
promised  that  the  Governor  of  Gaul  should  support 
them.  The  Romans,  hoping  to  temporize  with  the 
danger,  had  endeavored  to  conciliate  Ariovistus,  and 
in  the  year  of  Caesar's  consulship  had  declared  him  a 
friend  of  the  Roman  people.  Ariovistus,  in  turn, 
had  pressed  the  ^dui  still  harder,  and  had  forced 
them  to  renounce  the  Roman  alliance.  Among  the 
^dui,  and  throughout  the  country,  the  patriots  were 
in  the  ascendant,  and  Ariovistus  and  his  Germans 
were  welcomed  as  friends  and  deliverers.  Thoughtful 
persons  in  Rome  had  heard  of  these  doings  with  un- 
easiness ;  an  old  ^duan  chief  had  gone  in  person 
thither,  to  awaken  the  Senate  to  the  growing  peril ; 
but  the  Senate  had  been  too  much  occupied  with 
its  fears  of  Caesar,  and  Agrarian  laws,  and  dangers 
to  the  fish-ponds,  to  attend;  and  now  another  great 
movement  had  begun,  equally  alarming  and  still 
closer  to  the  Roman  border. 

The  Helvetii  were  old  enemies.  They  were  a 
branch  of  the  Celtic  race,  who  occupied  modern 
Switzerland,  hardy,  bold  mountaineers,  and  seasoned 
in  constant  war  with  their  German  neighbors.  On 
them,  too,  the  tide  of  migration  from  the  North  had 
pressed  continuously.     They  had   hitherto  defended 


222  Ccp^mr, 

themselves  successfully,  but  they  were  growing  weary 
of  these  constant  efforts.  Their  numbers  were  increas- 
ing, and  their  narrow  valleys  were  too  strait  for  them. 
They  also  had  heard  of  fertile,  scantily  peopled  lands 
in  other  parts,  of  which  they  could  possess  themselves 
by  force  or  treaty,  and  they  had  already  shown  signs 
of  restlessness.  Many  thousands  of  them  had  broken 
out  at  the  time  of  the  Cimbrian  invasion.  They  had 
defeated  Cassius  Longinus,  who  was  then  consul,  near 
their  own  border,  and  had  annihilated  his  army. 
They  had  carried  fire  and  sword  down  the  left  bank 
of  the  Rhone.  They  had  united  themselves  with  the 
Teutons,  and  had  intended  to  accompany  them  into 
Italy.  Their  first  enterprise  failed.  They  perished 
in  the  great  battle  at  Aix,  and  the  parent  tribe  had 
remained  quiet  for  forty  years  till  a  new  generation 
had  grown  to  manhood.  Once  more  their  ambition 
had  revived.  Like  the  Germans,  they  had  formed 
friendships  among  the  Gallic  factions.  Their  reputa- 
tion as  warriors  made  them  welcome  to  the  patriots. 
In  a  fight  for  independence  they  would  form  a  valua- 
ble addition  to  the  forces  of  their  countrymen.  They 
had  allies  among  the  Sequani ;  they  had  allies  in  the 
anti-Roman  party  which  had  risen  among  the  ^dui ; 
and  a  plan  had  been  formed  in  concert  with  their 
friends  for  a  migration  to  the  shores  of  the  Bay  of 
Biscay  between  the  mouths  of  the  Garonne  and  the 
Loire.  The  Cimbri  and  Teutons  had  passed  away, 
but  the  ease  with  which  the  Cimbri  had  njade  the  cir- 
cuit of  these  districts  had  shown  how  slight  resistance 
could  be  expected  from  the  inhabitants.  Perhaps 
their  coming  had  been  anticipated  and  prepared  for. 
The  older  men  among  the  Helvetii  had  discouraged 
the  project  when  it  was  first  mooted,  but  they  had 


The  HelvetiL  223 

yielded  to  eagerness  and  enthusiasm,  and  it  had  taken 
at  last  a  practical  form.  Double  harvests  had  been 
raised ;  provision  had  been  made  of  food  and  trans- 
port for  a  long  march ;  and  a  complete  exodus  of  the 
entire  tribe  with  their  wives  and  families  had  been 
finally  resolved  on. 

If  the  Helvetii  deserted  Switzerland,  the  cantons 
would  be  immediately  occupied  by  Germans,  and  a 
road  would  be  opened  into  the  Province  for  the  en- 
emy whom  the  Romans  had  most  reason  to  dread. 
The  distinction  between  Germans  and  Gauls  was  not 
accurately  known  at  Rome.  They  were  confounded 
under  the  common  name  of  Celts  ^  or  Barbarians. 
But  they  formed  together  an  ominous  cloud  charged 
with  forces  of  uncertain  magnitude,  but  of  the  reality 
of  which  Italy  had  already  terrible  experience.  Di- 
vitiacus,  chief  of  the  JEdui,  who  had  carried  to  Rome 
the  news  of  the  inroads  of  Ariovistus,  brought  again 
in  person  thither  the  account  of  this  fresh  peril. 
Every  large  movement  of  population  suggested  the 
possibility  of  a  fresh  rush  across  the  Alps.  Little 
energy  was  to  be  expected  from  the  Senate.  But  the 
body  of  the  citizens  were  still  sound  at  heart.  Their 
lives  and  properties  were  at  stake,  and  they  could 
feel  for  the  dignity  of  the  Empire.  The  people  had 
sent  Pompey  to  crush  the  pirates  and  conquer  Mith- 
ridates.  The  people  now  looked  to  Caesar,  and  in- 
stead of  the  "  woods  and  forests  "  which  the  Senate 
designed  for  him,  they  had  given  him  a  five  years' 
command  on  their  western  frontier. 

The  details  of  the  problem  before  him  Caesar  had 
yet  to  learn,  but  with  its  general  nature  he  must  have 
intimately  acquainted  himself.    Of  course  he  had  seen 

1  Even  Dion-  Cassius  speaks  of  the  Germans  as  KeArot. 


224  Ccesar. 

and  spoken  with  Divitiacus.  He  was  consul  when 
Ariovistus  was  made  "  a  friend  of  the  Roman  peo- 
ple." He  must  have  been  aware,  therefore,  of  the 
introduction  of  the  Germans  over  the  Rhine.  He 
could  not  tell  what  he  might  have  first  to  do.  There 
were  other  unpleasant  symptoms  on  the  side  of  Illyria 
and  the  Danube.  From  either  quarter  the  storm 
might  break  upon  him.  No  Roman  general  was  ever 
sent  upon  an  enterprise  so  fraught  with  complicated 
possibilities,  and  few  with  less  experience  of  the  reali- 
ties of  war. 

The  points  in  his  favor  were  these.  He  was  the 
ablest  Roman  then  living,  and  he  had  the  power  of 
attracting  and  attaching  the  ablest  men  to  his  serv- 
ice. He  had  five  years  in  which  to  look  about  him 
and  to  act  at  leisure  —  as  much  time  as  had  been 
given  to  Pompey  for  the  East.  Like  Pompey,  too, 
he  was  left  perfectly  free.  No  senatorial  officials 
could  incumber  him  with  orders  from  home.  The 
people  had  given  him  his  command,  and  to  the  people 
alone  he  was  responsible.  Lastly,  and  beyond  every- 
thing, he  could  rely  with  certainty  on  the  material 
with  which  he  had  to  work.  The  Roman  legionaries 
were  no  longer  yeomen  taken  from  the  plough  or 
shopkeepers  from  the  street.  They  were  men  more 
completely  trained  in  every  variety  of  accomplish- 
ment than  have  perhaps  ever  followed  a  general  into 
vhe  field  before  or  since.  It  was  not  enough  that 
they  could  use  sword  and  lance.  The  campaign  on 
which  Csesar  was  about  to  enter  was  fought  with 
spade  and  pick  and  axe  and  hatchet.  Corps  of  en- 
gineers he  may  have  had ;  but  if  the  engineers  de- 
signed the  work,  the  execution  lay  with  the  army. 
No  limited  department  would  have  been  equal  to  the 


Composition  of  Ccesar^s  Army.  22£ 

tasks  which  every  day  demanded.  On  each  evening 
after  a  march,  a  fortified  camp  was  to  be  formed, 
with  mound  and  trench,  capable  of  resisting  sur- 
prises, and  demanding  the  labor  of  every  single  hand. 
Bridges  had  to  be  thrown  over  rivers.  Ships  and 
barges  had  to  be  built  or  repaired,  capable  of  service 
against  an  enemy,  on  a  scale  equal  to  the  require- 
ments of  an  array,  and  in  a  haste  which  permitted  no 
delay.  A  transport  service  there  must  have  been 
organized  to  perfection  ;  but  there  were  no  stores 
sent  from  Italy  to  supply  the  daily  waste  of  material. 
The  men  had  to  mend  and  perhaps  make  their  own 
clothes  and  shoes,  and  repair  their  own  arms.  Skill 
in  the  use  of  tools  was  not  enough  without  the  tools 
themselves.  Had  the  spades  and  mattocks  been  sup- 
plied by  contract,  had  the  axes  been  of  soft  iron,  fair 
to  the  eye  and  failing  to  the  stroke,  not  a  man  in 
Csesar's  army  would  have  returned  to  Rome  to  tell  the 
tale  of  its  destruction.  How  the  legionaries  acquired 
these  various  arts,  whether  the  Italian  peasantry  were 
generally  educated  in  such  occupations,  or  whether 
on  this  occasion  there  was  a  special  selection  of  the 
best,  of  this  we  have  no  information.  Certain  only 
it  was  that  men  and  instruments  were  as  excellent  in 
their  kind  as  honesty  and  skill  could  make  them  ; 
and,  however  degenerate  the  patricians  and  corrupt 
the  legislature,  there  was  sound  stuff  somewhere  in 
the  Roman  constitution.  No  exertion,  no  forethought 
on  the  part  of  a  commander  could  have  extemporized 
Buch  a  variety  of  qualitie's.  Universal  practical  ac- 
complishments must  have  formed  part  of  the  training 
of  the  free  Roman  citizens.  Admirable  workmanship 
was  still  to  be  had  in  each  department  of  manufact- 

15 


226  Ccesar. 

ure,  and '  every  article  with  which  Csesar  was  pro- 
vided must  have  been  the  best  of  its  kind. 

Tlie  first  quarter  of  the  year  68  was  consumed  in 
preparations.  Csesar's  antagonists  in  the  Senate  were 
Btill  raving  against  the  acts  of  his  consulship,  threaten- 
ing him  w^ith  impeachment  for  neglecting  Bibulus's 
interpellations,  charging  him  with  impiety  for  disre- 
garding the  weather,  and  clamoring  for  the  sup- 
pression of  his  command.  But  Cicero's  banishment 
damped  the  ardor  of  these  gentlemen  ;  after  a  few 
vicious  efforts,  they  subsided  into  suUennesss,  and 
trusted  to  Ariovistus  or  the  Helvetii  to  relieve  them 
of  their  detested  enemy.  Csesar  himself  selected  his 
officers.  Cicero  having  declined  to  go  as  his  lieuten- 
ant, he  had  chosen  Labienus,  who  had  acted  with  him 
when  tribune,  in  the  prosecution  of  Rabirius,  and 
had  procured  him  the  pontificate  by  giving  the  elec- 
tion to  the  people.  Young  men  of  rank  in  large 
numbers  had  forgotten  party  feeling,  and  had  at- 
tached themselves  to  the  expedition  as  volunteers  to 
learn  military  experience.  His  own  equipments  were 
of  the  simplest.  No  common  soldier  was  more  care- 
less of  hardships  than  Csesar.  His  chief  luxury  was 
a  favorite  horse,  which  would  allow  no  one  but  Csesar 
to  mount  him  ;  a  horse  which  had  been  bred  in  his 
own  stables,  and,  from  the  peculiarity  of  a  divided  hoof, 
had  led  the  augurs  to  fpretell  wonders  for  the  rider 
of  it.  His  arrangements  were  barely  completed  when 
news  came  in  the  middle  of  March  that  the  Helvetii 
were  burning  their  towns  and  villages,  gathering  tlieir 
families  into  their  wagons,  and  were  upon  the  point 
of  commencing  their  emigration.  Their  numbers,  ac- 
cording to  a  register  which  was  found  afterwards, 
were  368,000,  of  whom  92,000  were  fighting  men. 


The  HclvetiL  22T 

They  were  bound  for  the  West ;  and  there  were  two 
roads,  by  one  or  other  of  which  alone  they  could 
leave  their  country.  One  was  on  the  right  bank  of 
the  Ehone  by  the  Pas  de  I'Ecluse,  a  pass  between 
the  Jura  mountains  and  the  river,  so  narrow  that 
but  two  carts  could  go  abreast  along  it ;  the  other, 
and  easier,  was  through  Savoy,  which  was  now  Ro- 
man. 

Under  any  aspect  the  transit  of  so  vast  a  body 
through  Roman  territory  could  not  but  be  dangerous. 
Savoy  was  the  very  ground  on  which  Longinus  had 
been  destro3^ed.  Yet  it  was  in  this  direction  that  the 
Helvetii  were  preparing  to  pass,  and  would  pass  un- 
less they  were  prevented ;  while  in  the  whole  Transal- 
pine province  there  was  but  a  single  legion  to  oppose 
them.  Caisar  started  on  the  instant.  He  reached 
Marseilles  in  a  few  days,  joined  his  legion,  collected  a 
few  levies  in  the  Province,  and  hurried  to  Geneva. 
Where  the  river  leaves  the  lake  there  was  a  bridge 
which  the  Helvetii  had  neglected  to  occupy.  Csesar 
broke  it,  and  thus  secured  a  breathing  time.  The 
Helvetii,  who  were  already  on  the  move  and  were  as- 
sembling in  force  a  few  miles  off,  sent  to  demand  a 
passage.  If  it  was  refused,  there  was  more  than  one 
spot  between  the  lake  and  the  Pas  de  I'Ecluse  where 
the  river  could  be  forded.  The  Roman  force  was 
small,  and  CcBsar  postponed  his  reply.  It  was  the 
1st  of  April ;  he  promised  an  answer  on  the  15th.  In 
the  interval  he  threw  up  forts,  dug  trenches,  and 
raised  walls  at  every  point  where  a  passage  could  bo 
attempted ;  and  when  the  time  was  expired,  he  de- 
clined to  permit  them  to  enter  the  Province.  They 
tried  to  ford;  they  tried  boats;  but  at  every  point 
tliey  were  beaten  back.     It  remained  for  them  to  go 


228  Ccemr, 

by  the  Pus  de  FEcluse.  For  this  route  they  required 
the  consent  of  the  Sequani ;  and,  however  willing  the 
Sequani  might  be  to  see  them  in  their  neighbors' 
territories,  they  might  object  to  the  presence  in  their 
own  of  such  a  flight  of  devouring  locusts.  Evident- 
ly, however,  there  was  some  general  scheme,  of  which 
the  entry  of  the  Helvetii  into  Gaul  was.  the  essential 
part;  and  through  the  mediation  of  Dumnorix,  an 
-^duan  and  an  ardent  patriot,  the  Sequani  were  in- 
duced to  agree. 

The  Province  had  been  saved,  but  the  exodus  of  the 
enormous  multitude  could  no  longer  be  prevented.  If 
such  waves  of  population  were  allowed  to  wander  at 
pleasure,  it  was  inevitable  tliat  sooner  or  later  they 
would  overflow  the  borders  of  the  Empire.  Csesar 
determined  to  show,  at  once  and  peremptorily,  that 
these  movements  would  not  be  permitted  without  the 
Romans'  consent.  Leaving  Labienus  to  guard  the 
forts  on  the  Rhone,  he  hurried  back  to  Italy,  gathered 
up  his  three  legions  at  Aquileia,  raised  two  more  at 
Turin  with  extreme  rapidity,  and  returned  with  them 
by  the  shortest  route  over  the  Mont  Genevre.  The 
mountain  tribes  attacked  him,  but  could  not  even  de- 
lay his  march.  In  seven  days  he  had  surmounted  the 
passes,  and  was  again  with  Labienus. 

The  Helvetii,  meanwhile,  had  gone  through  the  Pas 
de  FEcluse,  and  were  now  among  the  JEdui,  laying 
waste  the  country.  It  was  early  in  the  summer.  The 
corn  was  green,  the  hay  was  still  uncut,  and  the  crops 
were  being  eaten  oft'  the  ground.  The  JEdui  threw 
themselves  on  the  promised  protection  of  Rome.  Cse- 
gar  crossed  the  Rhone  above  Lyons,  and  came  up  with 
the  marauding  hosts  as  they  were  leisurely  passing  in 
boats  over  the  Sa6ne.     They  had  been  twenty  days 


The  HelvetiL  229 

upon  the  river,  transporting  their  wagons  and  their 
families.  Three  quarters  of  them  were  on  the  other 
side.  Tiie  Tigurini  from  Zurich,  the  most  warlike  of 
their  tribes,  were  still  on  the  left  bank.  The  Tigu- 
rini had  destroyed  the  army  of  Longinus,  and  on  them 
the  first  retribution  fell.  Csesar  cut  them  to  pieces. 
A  single  day  sufficed  to  throw  a  bridge  over  the  Sa6ne, 
and  the  Helvetii,  who  had  looked  for  nothing  less 
than  to  be  pursued  by  six  Roman  legions,  begged  for 
peace.  They  were  willing,  they  said,  to  go  to  any 
part  of  the  country  which  Caesar  would  assign  to 
them  ;  and  they  reminded  him  that  they  might  be 
dangerous,  if  pushed  to  extremities.  Caesar  knew 
that  they  were  dangerous.  He  had  followed  them 
because  he  knew  it.  He  said  that  they  must  return 
the  way  that  they  had  come.  They  must  pay  for  the 
injuries  which  they  had  inflicted  on  the  iEdui,  and 
they  must  give  him  hostages  for  their  obedience. 
The  fierce  mountaineers  replied  that  they  had  been 
more  used  to  demand  hostages  than  to  give  them  ; 
and  confident  in  their  numbers,  and  in  their  secret 
allies  among  the  Gauls,  they  marched  on  through  the 
jEduan  territories  up  the  level  banks  of  the  Sa6ne, 
thence  striking  west  towards  Autun. 

Csesar  had  no  cavalry ;  but  every  Gaul  could  ride, 
and  he  raised  a  few  thousand  horse  among  his  sup- 
posed allies'.  These  he  meant  to  employ  to  harass 
the  Helvetian  march  ;  but  they  were  secret  traitors, 
under  the  influence  of  Dumnorix,  and  they  fled  at  the 
first  encounter.  The  Helvetii  had  thus  the  country 
at  their  mercy,  and  they  laid  it  waste  as  they  went, 
a  day's  march  in  advance  of  the  Romans.  So  long  as 
they  kept  by  the  river,  Csesar's  stores  accompanied 
him  in  barges.     He  did  not  choose  to  let  the  Helvetii 


230  Cmar. 

out  of  his  sight,  and  when  they  left  the  Sa6ne,  and 
when  he  was  obliged  to  follow,  his  provisions  ran 
short.  He  applied  to  the  ^duan  chiefs,  who  prom- 
ised to  furnish  him,  but  they  failed  to  do  it.  Ten 
days  passed,  and  no  supplies  came  in.  He  ascertained 
at  last  that  there  was  treachery.  Dumnorix  ai^d. 
other  ^duan  leaders  were  in  correspondence  with  the 
enemy.  The  cavalry  defeat  and  the  other  failures 
were  thus  explained.  Csesar,  who  trusted  much  to 
gentleness  and  to  personal  influence,  was  unwilling  to 
add  the  ^dui  to  his  open  enemies.  Dumnorix  was 
the  brother  of  Divitiacus,  the  reigning  chief,  whom 
Caesar  had  known  in  Rome.  Divitiacus  was  sent 
for,  confessed  with  tears  his  brother^s  misdeeds,  and 
begged  that  he  might  be  forgiven.  Dumnorix  was 
brought  in.  Caesar  showed  that  he  was  aware  of  his 
conduct ;  but  spoke  kindly  to  him,  and  cautioned  him 
for  the  future.  Tlie  corn  carts,  however,  did  not  ap- 
pear ;  supplies  could  not  be  dispensed  vrith  ;  and  the 
Romans,  leaving  the  Helvetii,  struck  off  to  Bibracte, 
on  Mont  Beauvray,  the  principal  ^duan  town  in  the 
highlands  of  Nivernais.  Unfortunately  for  themselves, 
the  Helvetii  thought  the  Romans  were  flying,  and  be- 
came in  turn  the  pursuers.  They  gave  Caesar  an  op- 
portunity, and  a  single  battle  ended  them  and  their 
migrations.  The  engagement  lasted  from  noon  till 
night.  The  Helvetii  fought  gallantly,  and-  in  numbers 
were  enormously  superior;  but  the  contest  was  be- 
tween skill  and  courage,  sturdy  discipline  and  wild 
valor  ;  and  it  concluded'  as  such  contests  always  must, 
[n  these  hand-to-hand  engagements  there  were  no 
wounded.  Half  the  fighting  men  of  the  Swiss  were 
killed  ;  their  camp  was  stormed  ;  the  survivors,  with 
the  remnant  of  the  women  and  children,  or  such  of 


Defeat  of  the  HelvetiL  231 

them  as  were  capable  of  moving  (for  thousands  had 
perished,  and  a  little  more  than  a  third  remained  of 
those  who  had  left  Switzerland),  straggled  on  to  Lan- 
gres,  where  they  surrendered.  Cassar  treated  the  poor 
creatures  with  kindness  and  care.  A  few  were  set- 
tled in  Gaul,  where  they  afterwards  did  valuable  sei  v- 
ice.  The  rest  were  sent  back  to  their  own  cantons, 
lest  the  Germans  should  take  possession  of  their  lands; 
and  lest  they  should  starve  in  the  homes  which  they 
had  desolated  before  their  departure,  they  were  pro- 
vided with  food  out  of  the  Province  till  their  next 
crops  were  grown. 

A  victory  so  complete  and  so  unexpected  astonished 
the  whole  country.  The  peace  party  recovered  the 
ascendency.  Envoys  came  from  all  the  Gaulish  tribes 
to  congratulate,  and  a  diet  of  chiefs  was  held  under 
CaBsar*s  presidency,  where  Gaul  and  Roman  seemed 
to  promise  one  another  eternal  friendship.  As  yet, 
however,  half  the  mischief  only  had  been  dealt  with, 
and  that  the  lighter  part.  The  Helvetii  were  dis- 
posed of,  but  the  Germans  remained ;  and  till  Ari- 
ovistus  was  back  across  the  Rhone,  no  permanent 
peace  was  possible.  Hitherto  Caesar  had  only  received 
vague  information  about  Ariovistus.  When  the  diet 
Vas  over,  such  of  the  chiefs  as  were  sincere  in  their 
professions  came  to  him  privately  and  explained  what 
the  Germans  were  about.  A  hundred  and  twenty 
thousand  of  them  were  now  settled  near  Belfort,  and 
between  the  Vosges  and  the  Rhine,  with  the  conni- 
vance of  the  Sequani.  More  were  coming;  in  a  short 
time  Gaul  would  be  full  of  them.  They  had  made 
war  on  the  ^dui ;  they  were  in  correspondence  with 
the  anti-Roman  factions ;  their  object  was  the  per- 
manent occupation  of  the  country. 


232  Ccesar. 

Two  months  still  remained  of  summer.  Caesar  was 
now  conveniently  near  to  the  German  positions.  His 
army  was  in  high  spirits  from  its  victory,  and  he  him- 
self was  prompt  in  forming  resolutions  and  swift  in 
executing  them.  An  injury  to  the  J^dui  could  be 
treated  as  an  injury  to  the  Romans,  which  it  would 
be  dishonor  to  pass  over.  If  the  Germans  were  al- 
lowed to  overrun  Gaul,  they  might  soon  be  seen  again 
in  Italy. 

Ariovistus  was  a  "friend  of  Rome."  Csesar  had 
been  himself  a  party  to  the  conferring  this  distinc- 
tion upon  him.  As  a  friend,  therefore,  he  was  in  the 
first  instance  to  be  approached.  Caesar  sent  to  invite 
him  to  a  conference.  Ariovistus,  it  seemed,  set  small 
value  upon  his  honors.  He  replied  that  if  he  needed 
anything  from  Caesar,  he  would  go  to  Caesar  and  ask 
for  it.  If  Csesar  required  anything  from  him,  Caesar 
might  do  the  same.  Meanwhile  Ceesar  was  approach- 
ing a  part  of  Gaul  which  belonged  to  himself  by  right 
of  conquest,  and  he  wished  to  know  the  meaning  of 
the  presence  of  a  Roman  army  there. 

After  such  an  answer,  politeness  ceased  to  be  nec- 
essary. Caesar  rejoined  that  since  Ariovistus  esti- 
mated so  lightly  his  friendship  with  the  Rouians  as  to 
refuse  an  amicable  meeting,  he  would  inform  him 
briefly  of  his  demands  upon  him.  The  influx  of  Ger- 
mans on  the  Rhine  must  cease ;  no  more  must  come 
in.  He  must  restore  the  hostages  which  he  had  taken 
from  the  JEdui,  and  do  them  no  further  hurt.  If  Ari- 
ovistus complied,  the  Romans  would  continue  on  good 
terms  with  him.  If  not,  he  said  that  by  a  decree  of 
the  Senate  the  Governor  of  Gaul  was  ordered  to  pro- 
tect the  JEdui,  and  he  intended  to  do  it. 

Ariovistus  answered  that  he  had  not  interfered  with 


Alarm  in  the  Roman  Army,  233 

the  Romans ;  and  the  Romans  had  no  right  to  inter- 
fere with  him.  Conquerors  treated  their  subjects 
as  they  pleased.  The  JEdui  had  begun  the  quarrel 
with  him.  They  had  been  defeated,  and  were  now 
his  vassals.  If  Caesar  chose  to  come  between  him 
and  his  subjects,  he  would  have  an  opportunity  of 
seeing  how  Germans  could  fight  who  had  not  for 
fourteen  years  slept  under  a  roof» 

It  was  reported  that  a  large  body  of  Suevi  were 
coming  over  the  Rhine  to  swell  Ariovistus's  force,  and 
that  Ariovistus  was  on  the  point  of  advancing  to 
seize  Besan9on.  Besan9on  was  a  position  naturally 
strong,  being  surrounded  on  three  sides  by  the  Doubs. 
It  was  full  of  military  stores,  and  was  qtherwise  im 
portant  for  the  control  of  the  Sequani.  Caesar  ad- 
vanced swiftly  and  took  possession  of  the  place,  and 
announced  that  he  meant  to  go  and  look  for  Ariovis- 
tus. 

The  army  so  far  had  gained  brilliant  successes,  but 
the  men  were  not  yet  fully  acquainted  with  the  nat- 
ure of  their  commander.  They  had  never  yet  looked 
Germans  in  the  face,  and  imagination  magnifies  the 
unknown.  Roman  merchants  and  the  Gauls  of  the 
neighborhood  brought  stories  of  the  gigantic  size  and 
strength  of  these  Northern  warriors.  The  glare  of 
their  eyes  was  reported  to  be  so  fierce  that  it  could 
not  be  borne.  They  were  wild,  wonderful,  and  dread- 
ful. Young  ofiicers,  patricians  and  knights,  who  had 
followed  Caesar  for  a  little  mild  experience,  began  to 
dislike  the  notion  of  these  new  enemies.  Some  ap- 
plied for  leave  of  absence ;  others,  though  ashamed 
to  ask  to  be  allowed  to  leave  the  army,  cowered  m 
in  their  tents  with  sinking  hearts,  made  their  wills, 
and  composed  last  messages  for  their  friends.     Tho 


234  CcBsar. 

centurions  caught  the  alarm  from  their  superiors,  and 
the  legionaries  from  the  centurions.  To  conceal  their 
fear  of  the  Germans,  the  men  discovered  that,  if  they 
advanced  farther,  it  would  be  through  regions  where 
provisions  could  not  follow  them,  and  that  they  would 
be  starved  in  the  forests.  At  length,  Caesar  was  in- 
formed that  if  he  gave  the  order  to  march,  the  army 
would  refuse  to  move. 

Confident  in  himself,  Caesar  had  the  power,  so  i  i- 
dispensable  for  a  soldier,  of  inspiring  confidence  in 
others  as  soon  as  they  came  to  know  what  he  was. 
He  called  his  oflBcers  together.  He  summoned  the 
centurions,  and  rebuked  them  sharply  for  questioning 
his  purposes.  The  German  king,  he  said,  had  been 
received  at  liis  own  request  into  alliance  with  the  Ro- 
mans, and  there  was  no  reason  to  suppose  that  he 
meant  to  break  with  them.  Most  likely  he  w^ould  do 
what  was  required  of  him.  If  not,  was  it  to  be  con- 
ceived that  they  were  afraid  ?  Marius  had  beaten 
these  same  Germans.  Even  the  Swiss  had  beaten 
them.  They  were  no  more  formidable  than  other 
barbarians.  They  might  trust  their  commander  for 
the  commissariat.  The  harvest  was  ripe,  and  the 
difficulties  were  nothing.  As  to  the  refusal  to  march, 
he  did  not  believe  in  it.  Romans  never  mutinied, 
save  through  the  rapacity  or  incompetence  of  their 
general.  His  life  was  a  witness  that  he  was  not  ra- 
pacious, and  his  victory  over  the  Helvetii  that  as  yet 
he  had  made  no  mistake.  He  should  order  the  ad- 
vance on  the  next  evening,  and  it  would  then  be  seen 
whether  sense  of  duty  or  cowardice  was  the  stronger. 
If  others  declined,  Caesar  said  that  he  should  go  for- 
ward alone  with  the  legion  which  he  knew  would  fol- 
low him,  the  10th,  which  was  already  his  favorite. 


Interview  with  Ariovistus.  235 

The  speech  was  received  with  enthusiasm.  The 
10th  thanked  Caesar  for  his  compliment  to  them. 
The  rest,  officers  and  men,  declared  their  wiUingness 
to  follow  wherever  he  might  lead  them.  He  started 
with  Divitiacus  for  a  guide  ;  and,  passing  Belfort, 
came  in  seven  days  to  Cernay  or  to  some  point  near 
it.  Ariovistus  was  now  but  four-and-twenty  milea 
from  him.  Since  Ciesar  had  come  so  far,  Ariovistus 
said  that  he  was  willing  to  meet  him..  Day  and  place 
were  named,  the  conditions  being  that  the  armies 
should  remain  in  their  ranks,  and  that  Caesar  and  he 
might  each  bring  a  guard  of  horse  to  the  interview. 
He  expected  that  Caesar  would  .be  contented  with  an 
escort  of  the  JEduan  cavalry.  Caesar,  knowing  better 
than  to  trust  himself  with  Gauls,  mounted  his  10th 
legion,  and  with  them  proceeded  to  the  spot  which 
Ariovistus  had  chosen.  It  was  a  tumulus,  in  the  cen- 
tre of  a  large  plain  equi-distant  from  the  two  camps. 
The  guard  on  either  side  remained  two  hundred  paces 
in  the  rear.  The  German  prince  and  the  Roman  gen- 
eral met  on  horseback  at  the  mound,  each  accom- 
panied by  ten  of  his  followers.  Caesar  spoke  first  and 
fairly.  He  reminded  Ariovistus  of  his  obligations  to 
the  Romans.  The  J^dui,  he  said,  had  from  imme- 
morial time  been  the  leading  tribe  in  Gaul.  The  Ro' 
mans  had  an  alliance  with  them  of  old  standing,  and 
never  deserted  their  friends.  He  required  Ariovistus 
to  desist  from  attacking  them,  and  to  return  their 
hostages.  He  consented  that  the  Germans  already 
across  the  Rhine  might  remain  in  Gaul,  but  he  de- 
manded a  promise  that  no  more  should  be  brought 
over. 

Ariovistus  haughtily  answered  that  he  was  a  great 
king;  that  he  had  come  into  Gaul  by  the  invitation 


236  '  Ccesar, 

of  the  Gauls  themselves ;  that  the  territory  which  he 
occupied  was  a  gift  from  them ;  and  that  the  hostages 
of  which  Csesar  spoke  had  remained  with  him  with 
their  free  consent.  The  JEdui,  he  said,  had  begun 
the  war,  and,  being  defeated,  were  made  justly  to  pay 
forfeit.  He  had  sought  the  friendship  of  the  Romans, 
expecting  to  profit  by  it.  If  friendship  meant  the 
taking  away  his  subjects  from  him,  he  desired  no 
more  of  such  friendship.  The  Romans  had  their 
Province.  It  was  enough  for  them,  and  they  might 
remain  there  unmolested.  But  Caesar's  presence  so 
far  beyond  his  own  borders  was  a  menace  to  his  own 
independence,  and  his  independence  he  intended  to 
maintain.  Caesar  must  go  away  out  of  those  parts,  or 
he  and  his  Germans  would  know  how  to  deal  with 
him. 

Then,  speaking  perhaps  more  privately,  he  told  Cae- 
sar that  he  knew  something  of  Rome  and  of  the  Ro- 
man Senate,  and  had  learnt  how  the  great  people 
there  stood  affected  towards  the  Governor  of  Gaul. 
Certain  members  of  the  Roman  aristocracy  had  sent 
him  messages  to  say  that  if  he  killed  Caesar  they 
would  hold  it  a  good  service  done,^  and  would  hold 
him  their  friend  forever.  He  did  not  wish,  he  said, 
to  bind  himself  to  these  noble  persons.  He  would 
prefer  Caesar  rather ;  and  would  fight  Caesar's  battles 
for  him  anywhere  in  the  world  if  Caesar  would  but  re- 
tire and  leave  him.  Ariovistus  was  misled,  not  un 
naturally,  by  these  strange  communications  from  the 
sovereign  rulers  of  the  Empire.  He  did  not  know, 
he  could  not  know,  that  the  genius  of  Rome  and  the 

1  *  Id  se  ab  ipsis  per  eorum  nuntios  compertura  habere,  quorum  omniua; 
gratiam  atque  amicitiain  ejus  morte  rediinere  posset."  —  De  Bell.  Gall.  I 
44. 


Battle  at  Colmar.  237 

true  chief  of  Rome  were  not  in  the  treacherous  Senate, 
but  were  before  him  there  on  the  field  in  the  persons 
of  Csesar  and  his  legions. 

More  might  have  passed  between  them ;  but  Ario- 
vistus  thought  to  end  the  conference  by  a  stroke  of 
treachery.  His  German  guard  had  stolen  round  to 
where  the  Romans  stood,  and,  supposing  that  they 
had  Gauls  to  deal  with,  were  trying  to  surround  and 
disarm  them.  The  men  of  the  10th  legion  stood 
firm ;  Csesar  fell  back  and  joined  them,  and,  content- 
ing themselves  with  simply  driving  off  the  enemy, 
they  rode  back  to  the  camp. 

The  army  was  now  passionate  for  an  engagement. 
Ariovistus  affected  a  desire  for  further  communica- 
tion, and  two  officers  were  dispatched  to  hear  what 
he  had  to  say ;  but  they  were  immediately  seized  and 
put  in  chains,  and  the  Germans  advanced  to  within  a 
few  miles  of  the  Roman  outposts.  The  Romans  lay 
intrenched  near  Cernay.  The  Germans  were  at  Col- 
mar. Csesar  offered  battle,  which  Ariovistus  declined. 
Cavalry  fights  happened  daily  which  led  to  nothing. 
Caesar  then  formed  a  second  camp,  smaller  but 
strongly  fortified,  within  sight  of  the  enemy,  and 
threw  two  legions  into  it.  Ariovistus  attacked  them, 
but  he  was  beaten  back  with  loss.  The  "  wise 
women"  advised  him  to  try  no  more  till  the  new 
moon.  But  Csesar  would  not  wait  for  the  moon,  and 
forced  an  engagement.  The  wives  and  daughters  of 
the  Germans  rushed  about  their  camp,  with  streaming 
hair,  adjuring  their  countrymen  to  save  them  from 
slavery.  The  Germans  fought  like  heroes ;  but  they 
could  not  stand  against  the  short  swordt  and  hand-to- 
hand  grapple  of  the  legionaries.  Better  arms  and 
better  discipline  again  asserted  the  superiority  ;  and 


238  CG^mr, 

in  a  few  hours  the  invaders  were  flying  wildly  to  the 
Rhine.  Young  Publius  Crassus,  the  son  of  the  mil- 
lionnaire,  pursued  witli  the  cavahy.  A  few  swam 
the  river ;  a  few,  Ariovistus  among  them,  escaped  in 
boats ;  all  the  rest,  men  and  women  alike,  were  cut 
down  and  killed.  The  Suevi,  who  were  already  on. 
the  Rhine,  preparing  to  cross,  turned  back  into  their 
forests ;  and  the  two  immediate  perils  which  threat- 
ened the  peace  of  Gaul  had  been  encountered  and 
trampled  out  in  a  single  summer.  The  first  cam- 
paign was  thus  ended.  The  legions  were  distributed 
in  winter  quarters  among  the  Sequani,  the  contrivers 
of  the  mischief ;  and  Labienus  was  left  in  charge  of 
them.  Ca3sar  went  back  over  the  Alps  to  the  Cisal- 
pine division  of  the  Province  to  look  into 
the  administration  and  to  communicate  with 
his  friends  in  Rome. 

In  Gaul  there  was  outward  quiet ;  but  the  news  of 
the  Roman  victories  penetrated  the  farthest  tribes  and 
agitated  tlie  most  distant  households  on  the  shores  of 
the  North  Sea.  The  wintering  of  the  legions  beyond 
the  province  was  taken  to  indicate  an  intention  of 
permanent  conquest.  The  Gauls  proper  were  divided 
and  overawed ;  but  the  Belgians  of  the  North  were 
not  prepared  to  part  so  easily  with  their  liberty.  The 
Belgians  considered  that  they  too  were  menaced,  and 
that  now  or  never  was  the  time  to  strike  for  their  in- 
dependence. They  had  not  been  infected  with  Roman 
manners.  They  had  kept  the  merchants  from  their 
borders  with  their  foreign  luxuries.  The  Nervii,  the 
fiercest  of  them,  as  the  abstemious  Csesar  marks  with 
approbation,  were  water-drinkers,  and  forbade  wine 
to  be  brought  among  them,  as  injurious  to  their  sin- 
ews and  their  courage.     Csesar  learnt  while  in  Italy 


Confederacy  among  the  Belgoe,  239 

from  Labieims  that  the  Belgse  were  mustering  and 
combining.  A  second  vast  horde  of  Germans  were  in 
Flanders  and  Artois ;  men  of  the  same  race  with  the 
Belgse  and  in  active  confederacy  with  them.  They 
might  have  been  left  in  peace,  far  off  as  they  were, 
had  they  sat  still ;  but  the  notes  of  tlieir  prepara- 
tions were  sounding  through  the  country  and  feeding 
the  restless  spirit  which  was  stunned  but  not  sub- 
dued. 

Caesar,  on  his  own  responsibility,  raised  two  more 
legions  and  sent  them  across  the  Alps  in  the  spring. 
When  the  grass  began  to  grow  he  followed  himself. 
Suddenly,  before  any  one  looked  for  him,  he  was  on 
the  Marne  with  his  army.  The  Remi  (people  of 
Rheims),  startled  by  his  unexpected  appearance,  sent 
envoys  with  their  submission  and  offers  of  hostages. 
The  other  Belgian  tribes,  they  said,  were  determined 
upon  war,  and  were  calling  all  their  warriors  under 
arms.  Their  united  forces  were  reported  to  amount 
to  300,000.  The  Bellovaci  from  the  mouth  of  the 
Seine  had  sent  60,000  ;  the  Suessiones  from  Soissons, 
60,000;  the  Nervii,  between  the  Sambre  and  the 
Scheldt,  50,000;  Arras  and  Amiens,  25,000;  the 
coast  tribes,  36,000  ;  and  the  tribes  between  the  Ar- 
dennes and  the  Rhine,  called  collectively  Germani, 
40,000  more.  This  irregular  host  was  gathered  in 
the  forests  between  Laon  and  Soissons. 

Csesar  did  not  wait  for  them  to  move.  He  ad- 
vanced at  once  to  Rheims,  where  he  called  the  Sen- 
ate together  and  encouraged  them  to  be  constant  to 
the  Roman  alliance.  He  sent  a  party  of  ^dui  down 
the  Seine  to  harass  the  territory  of  the  Bellovaci  and 
recall  them  to  their  own  defence  ;  and  he  went  on  him- 
Belf  to  the  Aisne,  which  he  crossed  by  a  bridge  already 


240  Ccesar. 

existing  at  Berry-au-Bac.  There,  with  the  bridge  and 
river  afc  his  back,  he  formed  an  intrenched  camp  of 
extraordinary  strength,  with  a  wall  twelve  feet  high 
and  a  fosse  twenty-two  feet  deep.  Against  an  at- 
tack with  modern  artillery  such  defeiices  would,  of 
course,  be  idle.  As  the  art  of  war  then  stood,  they 
were  impregnable.  In  this  position  Caesar  waited, 
leaving  six  cohorts  on  the  left  bank  to  guard  the 
other  end  of  the  bridge.  The  Belgae  came  forward 
and  encamped  in  his  front.  Their  watch-fires  at 
night  were  seen  stretching  along  a  line  eight  miles 
wide.  Csesar,  after  feeling  his  way  with  his  cavalry, 
found  a  rounded  ridge  projecting  like  a  promontory 
into  the  plain  where  the  Belgian  host  was  lying.  On 
this  he  advanced  his  legions,  protecting  his  flanks 
with  continuous  trenches  and  earthworks,  on  which 
were  placed  heavy  crossbows,  the  ancient  predecessors 
of  cannon.  Between  these  lines,  if  he  attacked  the 
enemy  and  failed,  he  had  a  secure  retreat.  A  marsh 
lay  between  the  armies  ;  and  each  waited  for  the 
other  to  cross.  The  Belgians,  impatient  of  the  delay, 
flung  themselves  suddenly  on  one  side  and  began  to 
pour  across  the  river,  intending  to  destroy  the  cohorts 
on  the  other  bank,  to  cut  the  bridge,  and  burn  and 
plunder  among  the  Remi.  Csesar  calmly  sent  back 
his  cavalry  and  his  archers  and  slingers.  They  caught 
the  enemy  in  the  water  or  struggling  out  of  it  in  con- 
fusion ;  all  who  had  got  over  were  killed  ;  multitudes 
>vere  slaughtered  in  the  river ;  others,  trying  to  cross 
on  the  bodies  of  their  comrades,  were  driven  back. 
The  confederates,  shattered  at  a  single  defeat,  broke 
up  like  an  exploded  shell.  Their  provisions  had  run 
short.  They  melted  away  and  dispersed  to  their 
homes,  Labienus  pursuing  and  cutting  down  all  that 
he  could  overtake. 


Movement  against  the  Nervii.  241 

The  Roman  loss  was  insignificant  in  this  battle. 
The  most  remarkable  feature  in  Caesar's  campaigns, 
and  that  which  indicates  most  clearly  his  greatness 
as  a  commander,  was  the  smallness  of  the  number  of 
men  that  he  ever  lost,  either  by  the  sword  or  by 
wear  and  tear.  No  general  was  ever  so  careful  of  his 
soldiers'  lives. 

Soissons,  a  fortified  Belgian  town,  surrendered  the 
next  day.  From  Soissons  Caesar  marched  on  Breteuil 
and  thence  on  Amiens,  which  surrendered  also.  The 
Bellovaci  sent  in  their  submission,  the  leaders  of  the 
war  party  having  fled  to  Britain.  Csesar  treated  them 
all  with  scrupulous  forbearance,  demanding  nothing 
but  hostages  for  their  future  good  behavior.  His  in- 
tention at  this  time  was  apparently  not  to  annex  any 
of  these  tribes  to  Rome,  but  to  settle  the  country  in  a 
quasi-independence  under  an  ^duan  hegemony. 

But  the  strongest  member  of  the  confederacy  was 
still  unsubdued.  The  hardy,  brave,  and  water-drink- 
ing Nervii  remained  defiant.  The  Nervii  would  send 
no  envoys ;  they  would  listen  to  no  terms  of  peace.^ 
Caesar  learnt  that  they  were  expecting  to  be  joined  by 
the  Aduatuci,  a  tribe  of  pure  Germans,  who  had  been 
left  behind  near  Li^ge  at  the  time  of  the  invasion  of 
the  Teutons.  Preferring  to  engage  them  separately 
he  marched  from  Amiens  through  Canibray,  and  sent 
forward  some  officers  and  pioneers  to  choose  a  spot 
for  a  camp  on  the  Sambre.     Certain  Gauls,  who  had 

1  Caesar  thus  records  his  admiration  of  the  Nervian  character:  "Quo- 
rum de  natura  moribusque  Cassar  cum  quaereret  sic  reperiebatj-nullum  adi- 
tum  esse  ad  eos  mercatovibus;  nihil  pati  vinireliquarumque  rerum  ad  lux- 
uriam  pertinent/urn  inferri,  quod  iis  rebus relanguescere  animos  eorura  et 
temitti  virtutem  existimarent:  esse  homines  feros  magnajque  virtutis  ;  m- 
trepitare  atque  incusare  reliquos  Belgas  qui  se  populo  Romano  dedidissent 
patriamque  virtutem  projecissent;  confirmare  sese  neque  legatos  missuroa 
neque  ullam  conditionem  pacis  accepturos."  —  De  Bell.  Gall.  il.  15. 
16 


242  Ccesar. 

observed  his  habits  on  march,  deserted  to  the  Nervii, 
and  informed  them  that  usually  a  single  legion  went 
in  advance,  the  baggage  wagons  followed,  and  the 
rest  of  the  army  came  in  the  rear.  By  a  sudden  at- 
tack in  front  they  could  overwhelm  the  advanced 
troops,  plunder  the  carts,  and  escape  before  the^ 
could  be  overtaken.  It  happened  that  on  this  occa- 
sion the  order  was  reversed.  The  country  was  in- 
closed with  thick  fences,  which  required  to  be  cut 
through.  Six  legions  marched  in  front,  clearing  a 
road  ;  the  carts  came  next,  and  two  legions  behind. 
The  site  selected  by  the  officers  was  on  the  left  bank 
of  the  Sambre  at  Maubeuge,  fifty  miles  above  Namur. 
The  ground  sloped  easily  down  to  the  river,  which 
was  there  about  a  yard  in  depth.  There  was  a  cor- 
responding rise  on  the  other  side,  which  was  densely 
covered  with  wood.  In  this  wood  the  whole  force  of 
the  Nervii  lay  concealed,  a  few  only  showing  them- 
selves on  the  water  side.  Caesar's  light  horse  which 
had  gone  forward,  seeing  a  mere  handful  of  strag- 
glers, rode  through  the  stream  and  skirmished  with 
them  ;  but  the  enemy  retired  under  cover ;  the  horse 
did  not  pursue  ;  the  six  legions  came  up,  and,  not 
dreaming  of  the  nearness  of  the  enemy,  laid  aside 
their  arms,  and  went  to  work  intrenching  with  spade 
and  mattock.  The  baggage  wagons  began  presently 
to  appear  at  the  crest  of  the  hill,  the  signal  for  which 
the  Nervii  had  waited;  and  in  a  moment  all  along 
the  river  sixty  thousand  of  them  rushed  out  of  the 
forest,  sent  the  cavalry  flying,  and  came  on  so  im- 
petuously that,  as  Caesar  said,  they  seemed  to  be  in 
the  wood,  in  the  water,  and  up  the  opposite  bank  at 
Bword's  point  with  the  legions  at  the  same  moment. 
Tlie  surprise  was  complete  :  the  Roman  army  was  in 


Battle  with  the  Nervii.  243 

confusion.  Many  of  the  soldiers  were  scattered  at  a 
distance,  cutting  turf.  None  wexe  in  their  ranks, 
and  none  were  armed.  Never  in  all  his  campaigns 
was  Caesar  in  greater  danger.  He  could  himself  give 
no  general  orders  which  there  was  time  to  observe. 
T\^'o  points  only,  he  said,  were  in  his  favor.  The 
men  themselves  were  intelligent  and  experienced, 
and  knew  what  they  had  to  do;  and  the  officers  were' 
all  present,  because  he  had  directed  that  none  of 
them  should  leave  their  companies  till  the  camp  was 
completed.  The  troops  were  spread  loosely  in  their 
legions  along  the  brow  of  the  ridge.  Cassar  joined  the 
10th  on  his  right  wing,  and  had  but  time  to  tell  the 
men  to  be  cool  and  not  to  agitate  themselves,  when 
the  enemy  were  upon  them.  So  sudden  was  the  on- 
slaught that  they  could  neither  put  their  helmets  on, 
nor  strip  the  coverings  from  their  shields,  nor  find 
their  places  in  the  ranks.  They  fought  where  they 
stood  among  thick  hedges  which  obstructed  the  sight 
of  what  was  passing  elsewhere.  Though  the  Aduat- 
uci  had  not  come  up,  the  Nervii  had  allies  with 
them  from  Arras  and  the  Somme.  The  allies  en- 
countered the  8th,  9th,  10th,  and  11th  legions,  and 
were  driven  rapidly  back  down  the  hill  through  the 
river.  The  Romans,  led  by  Labienus,  crossed  in  pur- 
suit, followed  them  into  the  forest,  and  took  their 
camp.  The  Nervii  meanwhile  flung  themselves  with 
all  their  force  on  the  two  legions  on  the  left,  the 
I2th  and  7th,  enveloped  them  with  their  numbers, 
penetrated  behind  them,  and  fell  upon  the  baggage 
wagons.  The  light  troops  and  the  camp  followers 
fled  in  all  directions.  The  legionaries,  crowded  to- 
gether in  confusion,  were  fighting  at  disadvantage, 
and  were  falling  thick  and  fast.     A  party  of  horse 


244  Ooesar. 

from  Treves,  who  had  come  to  treat  with  Csesar, 
thought  that  all  was  lost,  and  rode  off  to  tell  their 
countrymen  that  the  Romans  were  destroyed. 

Caesar,  who  was  in  the  other  wing,  learning  late 
what  was  going  on,  hurried  to  the  scene.  He  found 
the  standards  huddled  together,  the  men  packed  so 
close  that  they  could  not  use  their  swords,  almost  all 
the  oflBcers  killed  or  wounded,  and  one  of  the  best  of 
them,  Sextius  Baculus  (Caesar  always  paused  in  his 
narrative  to  note  any  one  who  specially  distinguished 
himself),  scarce  able  to  stand.  Caesar  had  come  up 
unarmed.  He  snatched  a  shield  from  a  soldier,  and, 
bare-headed,  flew  to  the  front.  He  was  known  ;  he 
addressed  the  centurions  by  their  names.  He  bade 
them  open  their  ranks  and  give  the  men  room  to 
strike.  His  presence  and  his  calmness  gave  them 
back  their  confidence.  In  the  worst  extremities  he 
observes  that  soldiers  will  fight  well  under  their  com- 
mander's eye.  The  cohorts  formed  into  order.  The 
enemy  was  checked.  The  two  legions  from  the  rear, 
who  had  learnt  the  danger  from  the  flying  camp  fol- 
lowers, came  up.  Labienus,  from  the  opposite  hill, 
saw  what  had  happened,  and  sent  the  10th  legion 
back.  All  was  now  changed.  The  fugitives,  ashamed 
of  their  cowardice,  rallied,  and  were  eager  to  atone 
for  it.  The  Nervii  fought  with  a  courage  which  filled 
Csesar  with  admiration  —  men  of  greater  spirit  he 
said  that  he  had  never  seen.  As  their  first  ranks  fell, 
they  piled  the  bodies  of  their  comrades  into  heaps, 
and  from  the  top  of  them  hurled  back  the  Roman 
javelins.  They  would  not  fly  ;  they  dropped  where 
they  stood  ;  and  the  battle  ended  only  with  tlieir  ex- 
termination. Out  of  600  senators  there  survived  but 
three ;  out  of  60,000  men  able  to  bear  arms,  only  500. 
The  aged  of  the  tribe,  and  the  women  and  children 


Capture  of  Namur,  245 

who  had  been  left  in  the  morasses  for  security,  sent 
in  their  surrender,  their  warriors  being  all  dead. 
They  professed  to  fear  lest  they  might  be  destroyed 
by  neighboring  clans  who  were  on  bad  terms  with 
them.  Caesar  received  them  and  protected  them,  and 
gave  severe  injunctions  that  they  should  suffer  no 
injury. 

By  the  victory  over  the  Nervii  the  Belgian  confed* 
eracy  was  almost  extinguished.  The  German  Adu- 
atuci  remained  only  to  be  brought  to  submission. 
They  had  been  on  their  way  to  join  their  country- 
men ;  they  were  too  late  for  the  battle,  and  returned 
and  shut  themselves  up  in  Namur,  the  strongest  posi- 
tion in  the  Low  Countries.  Caesar,  after  a  short  rest, 
pushed  on  and  came  under  their  walls.  The  Ad- 
uatuci  were  a  race  of  giants,  and  were  at  first  defiant. 
When  they  saw  the  Romans'  siege  towers  in  prepara- 
tion, they  could  not  believe  that  men  so  small  could 
move  such  vast  machines.  When  the  towers  began 
to  approach,  they  lost  heart  and  sued  for  terms. 
Cassar  promised  to  spare  their  lives  and  properties  if 
they  surrendered  immediately,  but  he  refused  to 
grant  conditions.  They  had  prayed  to  be  allowed  to 
keep  their  arms ;  affecting  to  believe,  like  the  Nervii, 
that  they  would  be  in  danger  from  the  Gauls  if  they 
were  unable  to  defend  themselves.  Caesar  undertook 
that  they  should  have  no  hurt,  but  he  insisted  that 
their  arms  must  be  given  up.  They  affected  obedi- 
ence. They  flung  their  swords  and  lances  over  the 
walls  till  the  ditch  was  filled  with  them.  They 
opened  their  gates  ;  the  Romans  occupied  them,  but 
were  forbidden  to  enter,  that  there  might  be  no  plun- 
dering. It  seems  that  there  was  a  desperate  faction 
among  the  Aduatuci  who  had  been  for  fighting  to 
extremity.     A  third  part  of  the  arms  had  been  se- 


246  Coesar, 

cretly  reserved,  and  after  midnight  the  tribe  sallied 
with  all  their  force,  hoping  to  catch  the  Romans 
sleeping.  Caesar  was  not  to  be  surprised  a  second 
time.  Expecting  that  some  si\ch  attempt  might  be 
made,  he  had  prepared  piles  of  faggots  in  convenient 
places.  These  bonfires  were  set  blazing  in  an  instant. 
By  their  red  light  the  legions  formed  ;  and,  after  a 
desperate  but  unequal  combat,  the  Germans  were 
driven  into  the  town  again,  leaving  4,000  dead.  In 
the  morning  the  gates  were  broken  down,  and  Namur 
was  taken  without  more  resistance.  Cesar's  usual 
practice  was  gentleness.  He  honored  brave  men,  and 
never  punished  bold  and  open  opposition.  Of  treach- 
ery he  made  a  severe  example.  Namur  was  con- 
demned. The  Aduatuci  within  its  walls  were  sold 
into  slavery,  and  the  contractors  who  followed  the 
army  returned  the  number  of  prisoners  whom  they 
had  purchased  at  53,000.  Such  captives  were  the 
most  valuable  form  of  spoil. 

The  Belgse  were  thus  crushed  as  completely  as  the 
Gauls  had  been  crushed  in  the  previous  year.  Pub- 
lius  Crassus  had  meanwhile  made  a  circuit  of  Brit- 
tainy,  and  had  received  the  surrender  of  the  maritime 
tribes.  So  great  was  the  impression  made  by  these 
two  campaigns,  that  the  Germans  beyond  the  Rhine 
sent  envojT^s  with  offers  of  submission.  The  second 
season  was  over.  Caesar  left  the  legions  in  quarters 
about  Chartres,  Orleans,  and  Blois.  He  himself  re- 
turned to  Italy  again,  where  his  presence  was  impera- 
tively required.  The  Senate,  on  the  news  of  his  suc- 
cesses, had  been  compelled,  by  public  sentiment,  to 
order  an  extraordinary  thanksgiving  ;  but  there  were 
men  who  were  anxious  to  prevent  Csesar  from  achiev- 
ing any  further  victories  since  Ariovistus  had  failed 
to  destroy  him. 


CHAPTER  XV. 

Before  bis  own  catastrophe,  and  before  he  could 
believe  tliat  he  was  in  danpjer,  Cicero  had 

" .  B.C.  68. 

discerned  clearly  the  perils  which  threatened 
the  State.  The  Empire  was  growing  more  extensive. 
The  ^'  Tritons  of  the  fish-ponds  "  still  held  the  reins-; 
and  believed  their  own  supreme  duty  was  to  divide 
the  spoils  among  themselves.  The  pyramid  was 
standing  on  its  point.  The  mass  which  rested  on  it 
w^as  becoming  more  portentous  and  unwieldy.  The 
Senate  was  the  official  power ;  the  armies  were  the 
real  power;  and  the  imagination  of  the  Senate  was 
that  after  each  conquest  the  soldiers  would  be  dis- 
missed back  into  humble  life  unrewarded,  while  the 
noble  lords  took  possession  of  the  new  acquisitions,- 
and  added  new  millions  to  their  fortunes.  All  this 
Cicero  knew,  and  yet  he  had  persuaded  himself  that 
it  could  continue  without  bringing  on  a  catastrophe. 
He  saw  his  fellow  senators  openly  bribed ;  he  saw  the 
elections  become  a  mere  matter  of  money.  He  saw 
adventurers  pushing  themselves  into  office  by  steep- 
ing themselves  in  debt,  and  paying  their  debts  by 
robbing  the  provincials.  He  saw  these  high-born 
scoundrels  coming  home  loaded  with  treasure,  buying 
lands  and  building  palaces,  and,  when  brought  to  trial, 
purchasing  the  consciences  of  their  judges.  Yet  he 
had  considered  such  phenomena  as  the  temporary  ac- 
cidents of  a  constitution  which  was  still  the  best  tiiat 
could  be  conceived,  and  every  one  that  doubted  the 


248  Cmar, 

excellence  of  it  he  had  come  to  legard  as  an  enemy 
of  mankind.  So  long  as  there  was  free  speech  in 
Senate  and  platform  for  orators  like  himself,  all 
would  soon  be  well  again.  Had  not  he,  a  mere  coun- 
try gentleman's  son,  risen  under  it  to  wealth  and 
consideration  ?  and  was  not  his  own  rise  a  sufficient 
evidence  that  there  was  no  real  injustice?  Party 
struggles  were  over,  or  had  no  excuse  for  continuance. 
Sylla's  constitution  had  been  too  narrowly  aristo- 
cratic. But  Sylla's  invidious  laws  had  been  softened 
by  compromise.  The  tribunes  had  recovered  their 
old  privileges.  The  highest  offices  of  State  were 
open  to  the  meanest  citizen  who  was  qualified  for 
them.  Individuals  of  merit  might  have  been  kept 
back  for  a  time  by  jealousy  ;  the  Senate  had  too  long 
objected  to  the  promotion  of  Pompey  ;  but  their  op- 
position had  been  overcome  by  purely  constitutional 
means.  The  great  general  had  obtained  his  com- 
mand by  land  and  sea  ;  he,  Cicero,  having  by  elo- 
quent speech  proved  to  the  people  that  he  ought  to 
be  nominated.  What  could  any  one  wish  for  more  ? 
And  yet  Senate  and  Forum  were  still  filled  with  fac- 
tion, quarrel,  and  discontent !  One  interpretation 
only  Cicero  had  been  able  to  place  on  such  a  phe- 
nomenon. In  Rome,  as  in  all  great  communities, 
there  were  multitudes  of  dissolute,  ruined  wretches, 
the  natural  enemies  of  property  and  order.  Bank- 
rupt members  of  the  aristocracy  had  lent  themselves 
to  these  people  as  their  leaders,  and  had  been  the 
cause  of  all  the  trouble  of  the  past  years.  If  such 
renegades  to  their  order  could  be  properly  discour- 
aged or  extinguished,  Cicero  had  thought  that  there 
would  be  nothing  more  to  desire.  Catiline  he  had 
himself  made  an  end  of  to  his  own  immortal  srlorv, 


Cicero  and  Clodius.  249 

but  now  Catiline  had  revived  in  Clodius ;  and  Clodius, 
so  far  from  being  discouraged,  was  petted  and  en- 
couraged by  responsible  statesmen  who  ought  to  have 
known  better.  Caesar  had  employed  him  ;  Crassus 
had  employed  him ;  even  Pompey  had  stooped  to 
connect  himself  with  the  scandalous  young  incen- 
diary, and  had  threatened  to  call  in  tffi  army  if  the 
Senate  attempted  to  repeal  Csesav's  iniquitous  Uws.^ 
Still  more  inexplicable  was  the  ingratitude  of  the 
aristocracy  and  their  friends,  the  "boni  "  or  good  — 
the  "  Conservatives  of  the  State,"  ^  as  Cicero  still 
continued  to  call  Caesar's  opponents.  He  respected 
them  ;  he  loved  them ;  he  had  done  more  for  their 
cause  than  any  single  man  in  the  Empire ;  and  yet 
they  had  never  recognized  his  services  by  word  or 
deed.  He  had  felt  tempted  to  throw  up  public  life 
in  disgust,  and  retire  to  privacy  and  philosophy. 

So  Cicero  had  construed  the  situation  before  his 
exile,  and  he  had  construed  it  ill.  If  he  had  wished 
to  retire  he  could  not.  He  had  been  called  to  account 
for  the  part  of  his  conduct  for  which  he  most  admired 
himself.  The  ungracious  Senate,  as  guilty  as  he,  if 
guilt  there  had  been,  had  left  him  to  bear  the  blame 
of  it,  and  he  saw  himself  driven  into  banishment  Hy 
an  insolent  reprobate,  a  patrician  turned  Radical  and 
demagogue,  Publius  Clodius.  Indignity  could  be  car- 
ried no  farther. 

Clodius  is  the  most  extraordinary  figure  in  this  ex- 
traordinary period.  He  had  no  character.  He  had 
no  distinguished  talent  save  for  speech ;  he  had  no 
policy  ;  he  was  ready  to  adopt  any  cause  or  person 
which  for  the  moment  was  convenient  to  him ;  and 

1  To  Atticus,  n.  16. 

*  "  Conservatores  Reipublicfle."  —  Pro  Sexiio. 


250  Cmar. 

yet  for  five  years  this  man  was  the  omnipotent  leader 
of  the  Roman  mob.  He  could  defy  justice,  insult  the 
consuls,  beat  the  tribunes,  parade  the  streets  with  a 
gang  of  armed  slaves,  killing  persons  disagreeable  to 
him  ;  and  in  the  Senate  itself  he  had  his  high  friends 
and  connections  who  threw  a  shield  over  him  when 
his  audacity fiad  gone  beyond  endurance.  We  know 
Clodhis  only  from^icero  ;  and  a  picture  of  him  from 
a  second  hand  might  have  made  his  position  more  in- 
telligible, if  not  more  reputable.  Even  in  Rome  it  is 
scarcely  credible  that  the  Clodius  of  Cicero  could 
have  played  such  a  part,  or  that  the  death  of  such  a 
man  should  have  been  regarded  as  a  national  calam- 
ity. Cicero  says  that  Clodius  revived  Catiline's  fac- 
tion ;  but  what  was  Catiline's  faction  ?  or  how  came 
Catiline  to  have  a  faction  which  survived  him  ? 

Be  this  as  it  may,  Clodius  had  banished  Cicero,  and 
had  driven  him  away  over  the  seas  to  Greece,  there, 
for  sixteen  months,  to  weary  Heaven  and  his  friends 
with  his  lamentations.  Cicero  had  refused  Caesar's 
offered  friendship ;  Caesar  had  not  cared  to  leave  so 
powerful  a  person  free  to  support  the  intended  attacks 
on'  his  legislation,  and  had  permitted,  perhaps  had 
Encouraged,  the  prosecution.  Cicero  out  of  the  way; 
the  second  person  whose  presence  in  Rome  Csesar 
thought  might  be  inconvenient,  Marcus  Cato,  had 
been  got  rid  of  by  a  process  still  more  ingenious. 
The  aristocracy  pretended  that  the  acts  of  Caesar's 
consulship  had  been  invalid  through  disregard  of  the 
interdictions  of  Bibulus ;  and  one  of  those  acts  had 
been  the  reduction  of  Clodius  to  the  order  of  plebe- 
ians. If  none  of  them  were  valid,  Clodius  was  not 
legally  tribune,  and  no  commission  which  Clodius 
might  confer  through  the  people  would  have  validity. 


Cato  sent  to  Cyprus.  251 

A  service  was  discovered  by  which  Cato  was  tempted, 
and  which  he  was  induced  to  accept  at  Clodiiis's 
hands.  Thus  he  was  at  once  removed  from  the  city, 
and  it  was  no  longer  open  to  him  to  deny  that  Caesar's 
laws  had  been  properly  passed.  The  work  on  which 
he  was  sent  deserves  a  few  words.  The  kingdom  of 
Cyprus  had  long  been  attached  to  the  crown  of  Egypt. 
Ptolemy  Alexander,  dying  in  the  year  80,  had  be- 
queathed both  Egypt  and  Cyprus  to  Rome ;  but  the 
Senate  had  delayed  to  enter  on  their  bequest,  prefer- 
ring to  share  the  fines  which  Ptolemy's  natural  heirs 
were  required  to  pay  for  being  spared.  One  of  these 
heirs,  Ptolemy  Auletes,  or  "  the  Piper,"  father  of  the 
famous  Cleopatra,  was  now  reigning  in  Egypt,  and 
was  on  the  point  of  being  expelled  by  his  subjects. 
He  had  been  driven  to  extortion  to  raise  a  subsidy 
for  the  senators,  and  he  had  made  himself  universally 
abhorred.  Ptolemy  of  Cyprus  had  been  a  better  sov- 
ereign, but  a  less  prudent  client.  He  had  not  over- 
taxed his  people  ;  he  had  kept  his  money.  Clodius, 
if  Cicero's  story  is  true,  had  a  private  grudge  against 
him.  Clodius  had  fallen  among  Cyprian  pirates. 
Ptolemy  had  not  exerted  himself  for  his  release,  and 
he  had  suffered  unmentionable  indignities.  At  all 
events,  the  unfortunate  king  was  rich,  and  was  un- 
willing to  give  what  was  expected  of  him.  Clodius, 
on  the  plea  that  the  King  of  Cyprus  protected  pirates, 
uersuaded  the  Assembly  to  vote  the  annexation  of  the 
island  ;  and  Cato,  of  all  men,  was  prevailed  on  by  the 
mocking  tribune  to  carry  out  the  resolution.  He  was 
well  pleased  with  his  mission,  though  he  wished  it  to 
appear  to  be  forced  upon  him.  Ptolemy  poisoned 
himself ;  Cato  earned  the  glory  of  adding  a  new  prov- 
ince to  the  Empire,  and  did  not  return  for  two  years, 


252  Ccesar, 

when  he  brought  7,000  talents  —  a  million  and  a  half 
of  English  money  —  to  the  Roman  treasury. 

Cicero  and  Cato  being  thus  put  out  of  the  way  — 
CiBsar  being  absent  in  Gaul,  and  Pompey  Looking  on 
without  interfering — Clodius  had  amused  himself 
with  legislation.  He  gratified  his  corrupt  friends  in 
the  Senate  by  again  abolishing  the  censor's  power  to 
expel  them.  He  restored  cheap  corn  establishmeiita 
in  the  city  —  the  most  demoralizing  of  all  the  meas- 
ures which  the  democracy  had  introduced  to  swell 
their  numbers.  He  reestablished  the  political  clubs, 
which  were  hot-beds  of  distinctive  Radicalism.  He 
took  away  the  right  of  separate  magistrates  to  lay 
their  vetos  on  the  votes  of  the  sovereign  people,  and 
he  took  from  the  Senate  such  power  as  the}^  still  pos- 
sessed of  regulating  the  government  of  the  Provinces, 
and  passed  it  over  to  the  Assembly.  These  resolu- 
tions, which  reduced  the  administration  to  a  chaos,  he 
induced  the  people  to  decree  by  irresistible  majorities. 
One  measure  only  he  passed  which  deserved  commen- 
dation, though  Clodius  deserved  none  for  introducing 
it.  He  put  an  end  to  the  impious  pretence  of  "  ob- 
serving the  heavens,"  of  which  Conservative  officials 
had  availed  themselves  to  obstruct  unwelcome  mo- 
tions. Some  means  were,  no  doubt,  necessary  to  check 
the  precipitate  passions  of  the  mob  ;  but  not  means 
which  turned  into  mockery  the  slight  surviving  rem- 
nants of  ancient  Roman  reverence. 

In  general  politics  the  young  tribune  had  no  def- 
inite predilections.  He  had  threatened  at  one  time 
to  repeal  Caesar's  laws  himself.  He  attacked  alter- 
nately the  chiefs  of  the  army  and  of  the  Senate,  and 
the  people  let  him  do  what  he  pleased  without  with- 
drawing their  confidence  from  him.     He  went  every- 


Clodius  as  Tribune.  253 

where  spreading  terror  with  his  body-guard  of  slaves. 
He  quarrelled  with  the  consuls,  beat  their  lictors,  and 
wounded  Gabinius  himself.  Pompey  professed  to  be 
in  alarm  for  his  life,  and  to  be  unable  to  appear  in 
the  streets.  The  state  of  Rome  at  this  time  has  been 
well  described  by  a  modern  historian  as  a  "  Wal- 
purgis  dance  of  political  witches."  ^ 

Clodius  was  a  licensed  libertine;  but  license  has 
its  limits.  He  had  been  useful  so  far;  but  a  rein 
was  wanted  for  him,  and  Pompey  decided  at  last  that 
Cicero  might  now  be  recalled.  Clodius's  term  of 
office  ran  out.  The  tribunes  for  the  new  year  were 
well  disposed  to  Cicero.  The  new  consuls  were  Len- 
tulus,  a  moderate  aristocrat,  and  Cicero's  personal 
friend ;  and  Metellus  Nepos,  who  would  do  what 
Pompey  told  him.  Caesar  had  been  consulted  by  let- 
ter and  had  given  his  assent.  Cicero,  it  might  be 
thought,  had  learnt  his  lesson,  and  there  was  no  de- 
sire of  protracting  his  penance.  There  were  still 
difficulties,  however.  Cicero,  smarting  from  wrath 
and  mortification,  was  more  angry  with  the  aristo- 
crats, who  had  deserted  him,  than  with  his  open  en- 
emies. His  most  intimate  companions,  he  bitterly 
said,  had  been  false  to  him.  He  was  looking  regret- 
fully on  Caesar's  offers,^  and  cursing  his  folly  for 
having  rejected  them.  The  people,  too,  would  not 
sacrifice  their  convictions  at  the  first  bidding  for  the 
convenience  of  their  leaders ;  and  had  neither  forgot- 
ten nor  forgiven  the  killing  of  the  Catiline  conspira- 

^  Mommsai. 

^  "-Omnia  sunt  mek  culpS,  commissa,  qui  ab  his  me  amari  putabam  qui 
\mv  lebant:  eos  non  sequebar  qui  petebant."  —  Ad  Familiares,  xiv.  1. 
■*  N  lUum  est  meum  peccatum  nisi  quod  lis  credidi  a  quibus  nefas  putabam 

esse  m^  decipi Intiinus  proximus  fainiliarissimus  quisque  aat  sibi 

pertimuit  au  mihi  invidii."  — Ad  Quintum  Fratrein,  i.  4. 


254  Ccesar, 

tors;  while  Cicero,  aware  of  the  efforts  which  were 
being  made,  had  looked  for  new  allies  in  an  impru- 
dent quarter.  His  chosen  friend  on  the  Conservative 
side  was  now  Annins  Milo,  one  of  the  new  tribunes, 
a  man  as  disreputable  as  Clodius  himself ;  deep  iu 
debt  and  looking  for  a  province  to  indemnify  hiiU" 
self  —  famous  hitherto  in  the  schools  of  gladiators,  iu 
whose  arts  he  was  a  proficient,  and  whose  services 
were  at  his  disposal  for  any  lawless  purpose. 

A  decree  of  banishment  could  only  be  recalled  by 
the  people  who  had  pronounced  it.  Clodius,  though 
no  longer  in  office,  was  still  the  idol  of  the  mob  ;  and 
two  of  the  tribunes,  who  were  at  first  well  inclined 
to  Cicero,  had  been  gained  over  by  him.  As  early  as 
possible,  on  the  first  day  of  the  new  year,  Lentulus 
Spinther  brought  Cicero's  case   before  the 

B    C   57 

Senate.  A  tribune  reminded  him  of  a  clause, 
attached  to  the  sentence  of  exile,  that  no  citizen 
should  in  future  move  for  its  repeal.  The  Senate 
hesitated,  perhaps  catching  at  the  excuse ;  but  at 
length,  after  repeated  adjournments,  they  voted  that 
the  question  should  be  proposed  to  the  Assembly. 
The  day  fixed  was  the  25th  of  January.  In  antici- 
pation of  a  riot  the  temples  on  the  Forum  were  occu- 
pied with  guards.  The  Forum  itself  and  the  Senate- 
house  were  in  possession  of  Clodius  and  his  gang. 
Clodius  maintained  that  the  proposal  to  be  submitted 
to  the  people  was  itself  illegal,  and  ought  to  be  re- 
sisted by  force.  Fabricius,  one  of  the  tribunes,  had 
been  selected  to  introduce  it.  When  Fabricius  pre- 
sented himself  on  the  Rostra,  there  was  a  general 
rush  to  throw  him  down.  The  Forum  was  in  theory 
Htill  a  sacred  spot,  where  tlie  carrying  of  arms  was 
forbidden ;  but  the  new  age  had  forgotten  such  ob- 


Fight  in  the  Forum,  255 

solete  superstitions.  The  guards  issued  out  of  ths 
temples  with  drawn  swords.  The  people  were  des- 
perate and  determined.  Hundreds  were  killed  on 
both  sides  ;  Quintus  Cicero,  who  was  present  for  his 
brother,  narrowly  escaping  with  his  life.  The  Tiber, 
Cicero  says  —  perhaps  with  some  exaggeration — was 
covered  with  floating  bodies  ;  the  sewers  were  choked ; 
the  bloody  area  of  the  Forum  had  to  be  washed  with 
sponges.  Such  a  day  had  not  been  seen  in  Rome 
since  the  fight  between  Cinna  and  Octavius.^  The 
mob  remained  masters  of  the  field,  and  Cicero's  cause 
had  to  wait  for  better  times.  Milo  had  been  active 
in  the  combat,  and  Clodius  led  his  victorious  bands 
to  Milo's  house  to  destroy  it.  Milo  brought  an  action 
against  him  for  violence  ;  but  Clodius  was  charmed 
even  against  forms  of  law.  There  was  no  censor  as 
yet  chosen,  and  without  a  censor  the  praetors  pre- 
tended that  they  could  not  entertain  the  prosecution. 
Finding  law  powerless,  Milo  imitated  his  antagonist. 
He,  too,  had  his  band  of  gladiators  about  him ;  and 
the  streets  of  the  Capitol  were  entertained  daily  by 
fights  between  the  factions  of  Clodius  and  Milo.  The 
Commonwealth  of  the  Scipios,  the  laws  and  institu- 
tions of  the  mistoss  of  the  civilized  world,  had  be- 
come the  football  of  ruffians.  Time  and  reflection 
brought  some  repentance  at  last.  Towards  the  sum- 
mer "  the  cause  of  order  "  rallied.  The  consuls  and 
Pompey  exerted  themselves  to  reconcile  the  more  re- 
spectable citizens  to  Cicero's  return ;  and,  with  the 
ground  better  prepared,  the  attempt  was  renewed 
^vith  more  success.     In  July  the  recall  was  again  pro- 

1  "Meministis  turn' judices,  corporibus  civium  Tiberira  compleri   cloa- 

cas  referciri,  e  foro  spongiis  eflingi  sangiiinein Credem  tantnm, 

lantos  Hcervos  corporuiT)  extriictcs,  nisi  forte  illo  Cinnano  atque  Octaviauo 
die,  quis  nnqiiam  in  foro  vidit  ?  '*  —  Oratio  pro  P.  Sextio,  xxxi*.  38. 


256  Cmsar. 

posed  in  the  Senate,  and  Clodins  was  alcne  m  op- 
posing it.  When  it  was  laid  before  the  iVssembly, 
Clodiiis  made  another  effort ;  but  voters  had  been 
brought  up  from  other  parts  of  Italy  wh)  outnum- 
bered the  city  rabble ;  Mild  and  his  gladiiitors  wei  e 
in  force  to  prevent  another  burst  of  violence  ;  and 
the  great  orator  and  statesman  was  given  back  to 
his  country.  Sixteen  months  he  had  been  lamenting 
h'mself  in  Greece,  bewailing  his  personal  ill-treat- 
ment. He  was  the  single  object  of  his  own  reflec- 
tions. In  his  own  most  sincere  convictions  he  was 
the  centre  on  whioh  the  destinies  of  Rome  revolved. 
He  landed  at  Brindisi  on  the  5th  of  August.  His 
pardon  had  not  yet  been  decreed,  though  he  knew 
that  it  was  coming.  The  happy  news  arrived  in  a 
day  or  two,  and  he  set  out  in  triumph  for  Rome. 
The  citizens  of  Brindisi  paid  him  their  compliments  ; 
deputations  came  to  congratulate  from  all  parts  of 
Italy.  Outside  the  city  every  man  of  note  of  all  the 
orders,  save  a  few  of  his  declared  enemies,  were  wait- 
ing to  receive  him.  The  roofs  and  steps  of  the  tem- 
ples were  thronged  with  spectators.  Crowds  attended 
him  to  the  Capitol,  where  he  went  to  pour  out  his 
gratitude  to  the  gods,  and  welcomed  him  home  with 
shouts  of  applause. 

Had  he  been  wise  he  would  have  seen  that  the  re- 
joicing was  from  the  lips  outwards ;  that  fine  words 
were  not  gold  ;  that  Rome  and  its  factions  were  just 
where  he  had  left  them,  or  had  descended  one  step 
lower.  But  Cicero  was  credulous  of  flattery  when  it 
echoed  his  own  opinions  about  himself.  The  citi- 
zens, he  persuaded  himself,  were  penitent  for  their  in- 
gratitude to  the  most  illustrious  of  their  countrymen. 
The  acclamations  filled  him  with  the  delighted  belief 


Return  of  Cicero.  257 

Chat  he  was  to  resume  his  place  at  the  head  of  the 
State ;  and,  as  he  could  not  forgive  his  disgrace,  his 
first  object  in  the  midst  of  his  triumph  was  to  re- 
venge himself  on  those  who  had  caused  it.  Speeches 
of  acknowledgment  he  had  naturally  to  make  both 
to  the  Senate  and  the  Assembly.  In  addressing  the 
people  he  was  moderately  prudent ;  he  glanced  at  the 
treachery  of  his  friends,  but  he  did  not  make  too 
much  of  it.  He  praised  his  own  good  qualities,  but 
not  extravagantly.  He  described  Pompey  as  "the 
wisest,' best,  and  greatest  of  all  men  that  had  been, 
were,  or  ever  would  be."  Himself  he  compared  to 
Marius  returning  also  from  undeserved  exile,  and  he 
delicately  spoke  in  honor  of  a  name  most  dear  to  the 
Roman  plebs.  But  he,  he  said,  unlike  Marius,  had 
no  enemies  but  the  enemies  of  his  country.  He  had 
no  retaliation  to  demand  for  his  own  wrongs.  If  he 
punished  bad  citizens,  it  would  be  by  doing  well  him- 
self; if  he  punished  false  friends,  it  would  be  by 
never  again  trusting  them.  His  first  and  his  last  ob- 
ject would  be  to  show  his  gratitude  to  his  fellow  citi- 
zens.^ 

Such  language  was  rational  and  moderate.  He  un- 
derstood his  audience,  and  he  kept  his  tongue  under 
a  bridle.  But  his  heart  was  burning  in  him  ;  and 
what  he  could  not  say  in  the  Forum  he  thought  he 
might  venture  on  with  impunity  in  the  Senate,  which 
might  be  called  his  own  dunghill.  His  chief  wrath 
was  at  the  late  consuls.  They  were  both  powerful 
men.  Gabinius  was  Pompey's  chief  supporter.  Cal- 
purnius  Piso  was  Caesar's  father-in-law.  Both  had 
been  named  to  the  government  of  important  prov- 
inces; and,  if  authority  was  not  to  be  brought  into 

1  Ad   Quirites  post  Reditum. 
17 


258  Ccesar, 

contempt,  they  deserved  at  least  a  sliow  of  outward 
respect.  Cicero  lived,  to  desire  their  friendsliip,  to 
affect  a  value  for  them,  and  to  regret  his  violence ; 
but  they  had  consented  to  his  exile  ;  and  careless  of 
decency,  and  oblivious  of  the  chances  of  the  future, 
he  used  his  opportunity  to  burst  out  upon  them  in 
language  in  which  the  foulest  ruffian  in  the  streets 
would  have  scarcely  spoken  of  the  first  magistrate's 
of  the  Republic.  Piso  and  Gabinius,  he  said,  were 
thieves,  not  consuls.  They  had  been  friends  of  Cati- 
line, and  had  been  enemies  to  himself,  because  he  had 
baffled  the  conspiracy.  Piso  could  not  pardon  the 
death  of  Cethegus.  Gabinius  regretted  in  Catiline 
himself  the  loss  of  his  lover.^  Gabinius,  he  said,  had 
been  licentious  in  his  youth ;  he  had  ruined  his  fort- 
une ;  he  had  supplied  his  extravagance  by  pimping  ; 
and  had  escaped  his  creditors  only  by  becoming  trib- 
une. "  Behold  him,"  Cicero  said,  "  as  lie  appeared 
when  consul  at  a  meeting  called  by  the  arch  thief 
Clodius,  full  of  w^ine,  and  sleep,  and  fornication,  his 
hair  moist,  his  eyes  heavy,  his  cheeks  flaccid,  and 
declaring,  with  a  voice  thick  with  drink,  that  he  dis- 
approved of  putting  citizens  to  death  without  trial."  ^ 
As  to  Piso,  his  best  recommendation  was  a  cunning 
gravity  of  demeanor,  concealing  mere  vacuity.  Piso 
knew  nothing  —  neither  law,  nor  rhetoric,  nor  war, 
nor  his  fellow  men.  "  His  face  was  the  face  of  some 
half-human  brute."     "  He  was  like  a  negro,  a  thing 

1  "Ejus  vir  Catilina." 

2  "Cum  in  Circo  Flaminio  non  a  tribuno  plebis  censul  in  concioncm  sed 
a  latrone  archipirata  productus  esset,  primum  processit  qua  auctoritate  vir. 
Vmi,  somni,  stupriplenus,  madenticoma,  gravibus  oculis,  fluentibus  luccis, 
prossa  voce  et  tenmlenta,  quod  in  cives  indemnatos  esset  animad\'ei?.nn,  id 
Eibl  dixit  gravid  auctor  velieinentiasime  displicere."  —  Post  Reditum  in 
Seaatu,  6. 


Cicero's  Abuse  of  Piso.  259 

(Tieg otiumy  ViTithout  sense   or   savor,  a  Cappadooian 
picked  oat  of  a  drove  in  the  slave  market."  ^ 

Cicero  was  not  taking  the  best  means  to  regain  his 
influence  in  the  Senate  by  stooping  to  vulgar  brutal- 
ity. He  cannot  be  excused  by  the  manners  of  the 
age ;  his  violence  was  the  violence  of  a  fluent  orator 
whose  temper  ran  away  with  him,  and  who  never  re- 

1  Cicero  could  never  leave  Gabinius  and  Piso  alone.  Again  and  again 
he  rettirned  upon  them  railing  like  a  fishwife.  In  his  oration  for  Sextius 
he  scoffed  at  Gabinius's  pomatum  and  curled  hair,  and  taunted  him  with 
unmentionable  sins;  but  he  specially  entertained  himself  with  his  descrip- 
tion of  Piso :  — 

"For  Piso!  "  he  said:  "oh,  gods,  how  unwashed,  how  stern  he  looked 
—  a  pillar  of  antiquity,  like  one  of  the  old  bearded  consuls;  his  dress  plain 
plebeian  purple,  his  hair  tangled,  his  brow  a  ver}'  pledge  for  the  common- 
wealth! Such  solemn  it}' in  his  eye,  such  wrinkling  of  his  forehead,  that 
you  would  have  said  the  State  was  resting  on  his  head  like  the  sky  on 
Atlas.  Here  we  thought  we  had  a  refuge.  Here  was  the  man  to  oppose 
the  filth  of  Gabinius  ;  his  very  face  would  be  enough.  People  congratu- 
lated us  on  having  one  friend  to  save  us  from  the  tribune.  Alas!  I  was 
deceived,"  etc.,  etc. 

Piso  afterwards  called  Cicero  to  account  in  the  Senate,  and  brought  out 
a  still  more  choice  explosion  of  invectives.  Beast,  filth,  polluted  monster, 
and  such  like,  were  the  lightest  of  the  names  which  Cicero  hurled  back  at 
one  of  the  oldest  members  of  the  Roman  aristocracy.  A  single  specimen 
may  serve  to  illustrate  the  cataract  of  nastiness  which  he  poured'  alike  on 
Piso  and  Clodius  and  Gabinius:  "  When  all  the  good  were  hiding  them- 
selves in  tears,"  he  said  to  Piso,  "  when  the  temples  were  groaning  and 
the  very  houses  in  tlie  city  were  mourning  (over  my  exile),  you,  heartless 
madman  that  you  are,  took  up  the  cause  of  that  pernicious  animal,  that 
clotted  mass  of  incests  and  civil  blood,  of  villainies  intended  and  impurity 
of  crimes  committed  (he  was  alluding  to  Clodius,  who  was  in  the  Senate 
probably  listening  to  him).  Need  I  speak  of  your  feasting,  your  laugh- 
ter, and  handshakings  —  your  drunken  orgies  with  the  filthy  companions 
of  your  potations  ?  Who  in  those  days  saw  you  ever  sober,  or  doing  any- 
tliing  that  a  citizen  need  not  be  ashamed  of  ?  While  your  colleague's  house 
was  sounding  with  songs  and  cymbals,  and  he  himself  was  dancing  naked 
at  a  supper-party  (cumque  ipse  nudus  in  convivio  saltaret),  you,  you  coarSe 
glutton,  with  less  taste  for  music,  were  lying  in  a  stew  of  Greek  boys  and 
wine  in  a  feast  of  the  Centaurs  and  Lapithsp,  wh  -re  one  cannot  say  whether 
you  drank  most,  or  vomited  most,  or  spi'.t  most." —  In  L.  Pisonem,  10. 
The  manners  of  the  times  do  not  excuse  language  of  this  kind,  for  there 
was  probably  not  another  member  of  the  Senate  who  indulged  in  it.  If 
Cicero  was  disliked  and  despised, 'he  had  his  own  tongue  to  thank  for  it. 


260  Ooesar,    . 

sisted  the  temptation  to  insult  an  opponent.  It  did 
not  answer  with  him  ;  he  thought  he  was  to  be  chief 
of  the  Senate,  and  the  most  honored  person  in  the 
State  again ;  he  found  that  he  had  b6en  allowed  to 
return  only  to  be  surrounded  by  mosquitos  whose 
delight  was  to  sting  him>  while  the  Senate  listened 
with  indifference  or  secret  amusement.  He  had  been 
promised  the  restoration  of  his  property  ;  but  he  had 
a  suit  to  prosecute  before  he  could  get  it.  Clodiua 
had  thought  to  make  sure  of  his  Roman  palace,  by 
dedicating  it  to  "  Liberty."  Cicero  challenged  the  con- 
secration. It  was  referred  to  the  College  of  Priests, 
and  the  College  returned  a  judgment  in  Cicero's  fa- 
vor. The  Senate  voted  for  the  restoration.  They 
voted  sums  for  the  rebuilding  both  of  the  palace  on 
the  Palatine  Hill  and  of  the  other  villas,  at  the  public 
expense.  But  tlie  grant  in  Cicero's  opinion  was  a 
stingy  one.  He  saw  too  painfully  that  those  ''who 
had  clipped  his  wings  did  not  mean  them  to  grow 
again."  ^  Milo  and  his  gladiators  were  not  sufficient 
support,  and  if  he  meant  to  recover  his  old  power  he 
found  that  he  must  look  for  stronger  allies.  Pompey 
had  not  used  hiui  well ;  Pompey  had  promised  to 
defend  him  from  Clodius,  and  Pompey  had  left  him 
to  his  fate.  But  by  going  with  Pompey  he  could  at 
least  gall  the  Senate.  An  opportunity  offered,  and 
he  caught  at  it.  There  was  a  corn  famine  in  Rome. 
Cloditis  had  promised  the  people  cheap  bread,  but 
there  was  no  bread  to  be  had.  The  hungry  mob 
howled  about  the  Senate-house,  threatening  fire  and 
massacre.  The  great  capitalists  and  contractors  were 
believed  to  be  at  their  old  work.  There  was  a  cry, 
%s  in  the  ''  pirate  "  days,  for  some  strong  man  to  see 
1  To  AtHcue,  iv.  2. 


Cicero  and  Olodius,  261 

to  them  and  their  misdoings.  Pompey  was  needed 
again.  He  had  been  too  much  forgotten,  and  with 
Cicero's  help  a  decree  was  carried  which  gave  Pom- 
pey control  over  the  whole  corn  trade  of  the  Empire 
for  five  years. 

This  was  something,  and  Pompey  was  gratified ; 
bat  without  an  army  Pompey  could  do  little  against 
the  roughs  in  the  streets,  and  Cicero's  house  became 
the  next  battle-ground.  The  Senate  had  voted  it  to 
its  owner  again,  and  the  masons  and  carpenters  were 
Bet  to  work ;  but  the  sovereign  people  had  not  been 
consulted.  Clodius  was  now  but  a  private  citizen ; 
but  private  citizens  might  resist  sacrilege  if  the  mag- 
istrates forgot  their  duty.  He  marched  to  the  Pala- 
tine with  his  gang.  He  drove  out  the  workmen, 
broke  down  the  walls,  and  wrecked  the  adjoining 
house  which  belonged  to  Cicero's  brother  Quintus. 
The  next  day  he  set  on  Cicero  himself  in  the  Via 
Sacra,  and  nearly  murdered  him,  and  he  afterwards 
tried  to  burn  the  house  of  Milo.  Consuls  and  trib- 
unes did  not  interfere.  They  were,  perhaps,  fright- 
ened. The  Senate  professed  regret,  and  it  was  pro- 
posed to  prosecute  Clodius  ;  but  his  friends  were  too 
strong,  and  it  could  not  be  done.  Could  Cicero  have 
wrung  his  necic,  as  he  had  wrung  the  necks  of  Len- 
tulus  and  Cethegus,  Rome  and  he  would  have  had  a 
good  deliverance.  Failing  this,  he  might  wisely  have 
waited  for  the  law,  which  in  time  must  have  helped 
him.  But  he  let  himself  down  to  Clodius's  level. 
He  railed  at  him  in  the  Curia  as  he  had  railed  at 
Gabinius  and  Piso.  He  ran  over  his  history  ;  he 
taunted  him  with  incest  with  his  sister,  and  with 
Glthy  relations  with  vulgar  millionnaires.  He  accused 
bim  of  having  sold   himself  to   Catiline,  of   having 


262  Coesar, 

forged  wills,  murdered  the  heirs  of  estates  and  stolen 
their  property,  of  having  murdered  officers  of  the 
Treasury  and  seized  the  public  money,  of  having 
outraged  gods  and  men,  decency,  equity,  and  law ;  of 
haying  suffered  every  abomination  and  committed 
every  crime  of  which  human  nature  was  capable. 
So  Cicero  spoke  in  Clodius's  own  hearing  and  in  the 
hearing  of  his  friends.  It  never  occurred  to  him 
that  if  half  these  crimes  could  be  proved,  a  Com- 
monwealth in  which  such  a  monster  could  rise  to 
consequence  was  not  a  Commonwealth  at  all,  but  a 
frightful  mockery,  which  he  and  every  honest  man 
were  called  on  to  abhor.  Instead  of  scolding  and 
flinging  impotent  filth,  he  should  have  withdrawn 
out  of  public  life  when  he  could  only  remain  in  it 
among  such  companions,  or  should  have  attached  him- 
self with  all  his  soul  to  those  who  had  will  and  power 
to  mend  it. 

Clodius  was  at  this  moment  the  popular  candidate 
for  the  asdileship,  the  second  step  on  the  road  to  the 
consulship.  He  was  the  favorite  of  the  mob.  He 
was  supported  by  his  brother  Appius  Claudius,  the 
prsetor,  and  the  clientele  of  the  great  Claudian  fam- 
ily ;  and  Cicero's  denunciations  of  him  had  not  af- 
fected in  the  least  his  chances  of  success.  If  Clo- 
dius was  to  be  defeated,  other  means  were  needed 
than  a  statement  in  the  Senate  that  the  aspirant  to 
public  honors  was  a  wretch  unfit  to  live.  The  elec- 
tion was  fixed  for  the  18th  of  November,  and  was  to 
be  held  in  the  Campus  Martins.  Milo  and  his  gladi- 
ators took  possession  of  the  polling-place  in  the  night, 
and  the  votes  could  not  be  taken.  The  Assembly 
met  the  next  day  in  the  Forum,  but  was  broken  up 
by  violence,  and  Clodius  had  still  to  wait.     The  pu- 


Ptolemy  Auletes.  263 

litical  witch  dance  was  at  its  height,  and  Cicero  waa 
in  his  gloiy.  "  The  elections,"  he  wrote  to  Atticus, 
"  will  not,  I  think,  be  held  ;  and  Clodius  will  be 
prosecuted  by  Milo  unless  he  is  first  killed.  Milo 
will  kill  him  if  he  falls  in  with  him.  He  is  not 
afraid  to  do  it,  and  he  says  openly  that  he  will  do  it. 
He  is  not  frightened  at  the  misfortune  which  fell  on 
me.  He  is  not  the  man  to  listen  to  traitorous  friends 
or  to  trust  indolent  patricians."  ^ 

With  recovered  spirits  the  Senate  began  again  to 
attack  the  laws  of  Csesar  and  Clodius  as  irregular  ; 
but  they  were  met  with  the  difficulty  which  Clodius 
had  provided.  Cato  had  come  back  from  Cyprus, 
delighted  with  his  exploit  and  with  himself,  and 
bringing  a  ship-load  of  money  with  him  for  the  pub- 
lic treasury.  If  the  laws  were  invalidated  by  the 
disregard  of  Bibulus  and  the  signs  of  the  sky,  then 
the  Cyprus  mission  had  been  invalid  also,  and  Cato's 
fine  performance  void.  Ca3sar's  grand  victories,  the 
news, of  which  was  now  coming  in,  made  it  inoppor- 
tune to  press  the  matter  farther;  and  just  then  an- 
other subject  rose,  on  which  the  Optimates  ran  olf 
like  hounds  upon  a  fresh  scent. 

Ptolemy  of  Cyprus  had  been  disposed  of.  Ptol- 
emy Auletes  had  been  preserved  on  the  throne  of 
Egypt  by  subsidies  to  the  chiefs  of  the  Senate.  But 
his  subjects  had  been  hardly  taxed  to  raise  the 
money.  The  Cyprus  affair  had  further  exasperated 
them,  and  when  Ptolemy  laid  on  fresh  impositions 
the  Alexandrians  mutinied  and  drove  him  out.  His 
misfortunes  being  due  to  his  friends  at  Rome,  he  came 
thither  to  beg  the  Romans  to  replace  him.  The  Stni- 
ate  agreed  unanimously  that  he  must  be  restored  to 

1  To  Atticus,  iv.  3. 


264  Cmar. 

his  throne.  But  then  the  question  rose,  who  should 
be  the  happy  person  who  was  to  be  the  instrument  of 
his  reinstatement  ?  Alexandria  was  rich.  An  enor- 
mous fine  could  be  exacted  for  the  rebellion,  besides 
what  might  be  demanded  from  Ptolemy's  gratitude. 
No  prize  so  splendid  had  yet  been  offered  to  Roman 
avarice,  and  the  patricians  quarrelled  over  it  like  jack- 
als over  a  bone.  Lentulus  Spinther,  the  late  consul, 
was  now  governor  of  Cilicia  ;  Gabinius  was  governor 
of  Syria ;  and  each  of  these  had  their  advocates.  Cic- 
ero and  the  respectable  Conservatives  were  for  Spin- 
ther ;  Pompey  was  for  Gabinius.  Others  wished 
Pompey  himself  to  go  ;  others  wished  for  Crassus. 

Meanwhile,  the  poor  Egyptians  themselves  claimed 
a  right  to  be  heard  in  protest  against  the  reimposi- 
tion  upon  them  of  a  sovereign  who  had  made  himself 
abhorred.  Why  was  Ptolemy  to  be  forced  on  them? 
A  hundred  of  the  principal  Alexandrians  came  to 
Italy  with  a  remonstrance  ;  and  had  they  brought 
money  with  them  they  might  have  had  a  respectful 
hearing.  But  they  had  brought  none  or  not  enough, 
and  Ptolemy,  secure  in  his  patrons'  support,  hired  a 
party  of  banditti,  who  set  on  the  deputation  when  it 
landed,  and  killed  the  greater  part  of  its  members. 
Dion,  the  leader  of  the  embassy,  escaped  for  a  time. 
There  was  still  a  small  party  among  the  aristocracy 
(Cato  and  Cato's  followers)  who  had  a  conscience  in 
such  things  ;  and  Favonius,  one  of  them,  took  up 
Dion's  cause.  Envoys  from  allied  sovereigns  or 
provinces,  he  said,  were  continually  being  murdered. 
Noble  lords  received  husli-money,  and  there  had  been 
no  inquiry.  Such  things  happened  too  often,  and 
ought  to  be  stopped.  I'he  Senate  voted  decently  to 
Bend  for  Dion  and  examine  him.     But  Favonius  was 


Clodius  chosen  JEdile.  265 

privately  laughed  at  as  "  Cato's  ape  ;  ^'  the  unfortu- 
nate Dion  was  made  away  with,  and  Pom- 
pey  took  Ptolemy  into  his  own  house  and 
openly  entertained  him  there.  Pompey  would  him- 
self perhaps  have  undertaken  the  restoration,  but  the 
Senate  was  jealous.  His  own  future  was  growing 
uncertain  ;  and  eventually,  without  asking  for  a  con- 
sent which  the  Senate  would  have  refused  to  give,  he 
sent  his  guest  to  Syria  with  a  charge  to  his  friend 
Gabinius  to  take  him  back  on  his  own  responsibility.^ 

The  killing  of  envoys  and  the  taking  of  hush- 
money  by  senators  were,  as  Favonius  had  said,  too 
common  to  attract  much  notice ;  but  the  affair  of 
Ptolemy,  like  that  of  Jugurtha,  had  obtained  an  in- 
famous notoriety.  The  Senate  was  execrated.  Pom- 
pe}^  himself  fell  in  public  esteem.  His  overseership 
of  the  granaries  had  as  j^et  brought  in  no  corn.  He 
had  been  too  busy  over  the  Egyptian  matter  to  at- 
tend to  it.  Clearly  enough*  there  would  now  have 
been  a  revolution  in  Rome,  but  for  the  physical  force 
of  the.  upper  classes  with  their  bands  of  slaves  and 
clients. 

The  year  of  Milo's  tribunate  being  over,  Clodius 
was  chosen  sedile  without  further  trouble  ;  and,  in- 
stead of  being  the  victim  of  a  prosecution,  he  at  once 
impeached  Milo  for  the  interruption  of  the  Comitia 
on  the  18th  of  November.  Milo  appeared  to  answer 
on  the  2d  of  February ;  but  there  was  another  riot, 
and  the  meeting  was  broken  up.     On  the  6th  the 

1  For  the  details  of  this  story  see  Dion  Cassius,  lib  xxxix.  capp.  12-16. 
Compare  Cicero  ad  Familiares,  lib.  i.  Epist.  1-2.  Curious  subterranean 
influences  seem  to  have  been  at  work  to  save  the  Senate  from  the  infamy 
of  restoring  Ptolemy.  Verses  were  discovered  in  the  Sibylline  Book^  di- 
recting that  if  an  Egyptian  king  came  to  Rome  as  a  suppliant,  he  was  to 
\e  entertained  hospitably,  but  was  to  have  no  active  help.  Perhaps  Cic- 
tro  was  conCerued  iu  this. 


266  Ccesar. 

court  was  again  held.  The  crowd  was  enormcus* 
Cicero  happily  has  left  a  minute  account  of  the  scene. 
The  people  were  starving,  the  corn  question  waa 
pressing.  Milo  presented  himself,  and  Ponipey  camo 
forward  on  the  Rostra  to  speak.  He  was  received 
with  howls  and  curses  from  Clodius's  hired  ruffians, 
and  his  voice  could  not  be  heard  for  the  noise.  Poni- 
pey held  on  undaunted,  and  commanded  occasional 
silence  by  the  weight  of  his  presence.  Clodius  rose 
when  Pompey  had  done,  and  rival  yells  went  up  from 
the  Milonians.  Yells  were  not  enough  ;  filthy  verses 
were  sung  in  chorus  about  Clodius  and  Clodia,  ribald 
bestiality,  delightful  to  the  ears  of  ''  Tully."  Clo- 
dius, pale  with  anger,  called  out,  "  Who  is  murdering 
the  people  with  famine  ?  "  A  thousand  throats  an- 
swered, "  Pompey  !  "  "  Who  wants  to  go  to  Alexan- 
dria ?  "  "  Pompey  !  "  they  shouted  again.  "  And 
whom  do  you  want  to  go?  "  "  Crassus!  "  they  cried. 
Passion  had  risen  too  high  for  words.  The  Clodians 
began  to  spit  on  the  Milonians.  The  Milonians  drew 
swords  and  cut  the  heads  of  the  Clodians.  The 
working  men,  being  unarmed,  got  the  worst  of  the 
conflict  ;  and  Clodius  was  flung  from  the  Rostra. 
The  Senate  was  summoned  to  call  Pompey  to  ac- 
count. Cicero  went  off  home,  wishing  to  defend 
Pompey,  but  wishing  also  not  to  offend  the  "good" 
party,  who  Avere  clamorous  against  him.  That  even- 
ing nothing  could  be  done.  Two  days  after,  the  Sen- 
ate met  again  ;  Cato  abused  Pompey,  and  praised 
Cicero  much  against  Cicero's  will,  who  was  anxious 
to  stand  well  with  Pompey.  Pompey  accused  Cato 
and  Crassus  of  a  conspiracy  to  murder  him.  In  fact, 
as  Cicero  said,  Pompey  had  just  then  no  friend  in 
any  party.     The   mob  was  estranged  from  him,  the 


Parties  in  Rome,  267 

noble  lords  hated  him,  the  Senate  did  not  like  him, 
the  patrician  youth  insulted  him,  and  he  was  driven 
to  bring  up  friends  from  the  country  to  protect  his 
life.  All  sides  were  mustering  their  forces  in  view 
of  an  impending  fight.^ 

It  would  be  wasted  labor  to  trace  minutely  the 
particulars  of  so  miserable  a  scene,  or  the  motives  of 
the  principal  actors  in  it  —  Pompey,  bound  to  Cassar 
by  engagement  and  conviction,  yet  jealous  of  his 
growing  fame,  without  political  conviction  of  his  own, 
and  only  conscious  that  his  weight  in  the  State  no 
longer  corresponded  to  his  own  estimate  of  his  merits 

—  Clodius  at  the  head  of  the  starving  mob,  repre- 
senting mere  anarchy,  and  nourishing  an  implacable 
hate  against  Cicero — Cicero,  anxious  for  his  own 
safety,  knowing  now  that  he  had  made  enemies  of 
half  the  Senate,  watching  how  the  balance  of  factions 
would  go,  and  dimly  conscious  that  the  sword  would 
have  to  decide  it,  clinging,  therefore,  to  Pompey,  whose 
military  abilities  his  civilian  ignorance  considered 
supereminent  —  Cato,  a  virtuous  fanatic,  narrow,  pas- 
sionate, with  a  vein  of  vanity,  regarding  all  ways  as 
wrong  but  his  own,  and  thinking  all  men  who  would 
not  walk  as  he  prescribed  wicked  as  well  as  mistaken 

—  the  rest  of  the  aristocracy  scuffling  for  the  plunder 
of  Egypt,  or  engaged  in  other  enterprises  not  more 
creditable  —  the  streets  given  over  to  the  factions  — 
the  elections  the  alternate  prize  pf  bribery  or  vio- 
lence, and  consulates  and  pra3torships  falling  to  men 
more  than  half  of  whom,  if  Cicero  can  be  but  mod- 
erately believed,  deserved  to  be  crucified.  Cicero's 
main  affection  was  for  Titus  Annius  Milo,  to  whom 
be   clung  as   a  woman  will   cling   to   a   man  whose 

1  Ad  Quintum  Fratrem,  ii.  3. 


268  Ccesar. 

Btrength  she  hopes  will  support  her  weakness.  Milo, 
at  least,  would  revenge  his  wrongs  upon  Clodius. 
Clodius,  Cicero  said  even  in  the  Senate,  was  Milo's 
predestined  victim.^  Titus  Annius  knew  how  an 
armed  citizen  who  burnt  temples  and  honest  men's 
houses  ought  to  be  dealt  with.  Titus  Annius  was 
born  to  extinguish  that  pest  of  the  Commonwealth. ^ 

Still  smarting  over  his  exile,  Cicero  went  one  day 
with  Milo  and  his  gladiators  to  the  Capitol  when 
Clodius  was  absent,  and  carried  off  the  brass  tablet 
on  which  the  decree  of  his  exile  had  been  engraved. 
It  was  some  solace  to  his  poor  vanity  to  destroy  the 
record  of  his  misfortune.  But  it  was  in  vain.  All 
was  going  wrong.  Caesar's  growing  glories  came 
thick  to  trouble  his  peace.  He,  after  all,  then,  was 
not  to  be  the  greatest  man  in  Rome.  How  would 
these  splendid  successes  affect  parties  ?  How  would 
they  affect  Pompey?  How  would  they  affect  the 
Senate  ?     What  should  he  do  himself  ? 

The  Senate  distrusted  him ;  the  people  distrusted 
him.  In  his  perplexity  he  tried  to  rouse  the  aristoc- 
racy to  a  sense  of  their  danger,  and  hinted  that  his 
was  the  name  which  yet  might  save  them. 

Sextius,  who  had  been  a  tribune  with  Milo  in  thb 
past  year,  was  under  prosecution  for  one  of  the  innu- 
merable acts  of  violence  which  had  disgraced  the 
city.  Cicero  defended  him,  and  spoke  at  length  on 
the  state  of  affairs  as  he  wished  the  world  to  believe 
that  he  regarded  it. 

"  In  the  Commonwealth,"  he  said,  "  there  have  al- 
ways been  two  parties  —  the  populares  and  the  opti- 
iiates     The  populares  say  and  do  what  will  please  the 

1  "  Tito  Annio  devota  et  constituta  hostia  esse  videtur."  —  De  Huru^i- 
turn  responsis. 
a  Ibid. 


Cicero  on  the  Situation.  269 

mob.  The  optimates  say  and  do  what  will  please  the 
best  men.  And  who  are  the  best  men  ?  They  are 
of  all  ranks  and  infinite  in  number  —  senators,  muni- 
cipals, farmers,  men  of  business,  even  libertini.  The 
type  is  distinct.  They  are  the  well-to-do,  the  sound, 
the  honest,  who  do  no  wrong  to  any  man.  The  ob- 
ject at  which  they  aim  is  quiet  with  honor.^  They 
are  the  Conservatives  of  the  State.  Religion  and 
good  government,  the  Senate's  authority,  the  laws 
and  customs  of  our  ancestors,  public  faith,  integrity, 
sound  administration  —  these  are  the  principles  on 
which  they  rest,  and  these  they  will  maintain  with 
their  lives.  Their  path  is  perilous.  The  foes  of  the 
State  are  stronger  than  its  defenders  ;  they  are  bold 
and  desperate,  and  go  with  a  will  to  the  work  of  de- 
struction ;  while  the  good,  I  know  not  why,  are  lan- 
guid, and  will  not  rouse  themselves  unless  compelled. 
They  would  have  quiet  without  honor,  and  so  lose 
both' quiet  and  honor.  Some  are  triflers,  some  are 
timid,  only  a  few  stand  firm.  But  it  is  not  now  as  it 
was  in  the  days  of  the  Gracchi.  There  have  been 
great  reforms.  The  people  are  conservative  at  heart ; 
the  demagogues  cannot  rouse  them,  and  are  forced  to 
pack  the  Assembly  with  hired  gangs.  Take  away 
these  gangs,  stop  corruption  at  the  elections,  and  w^e 
shall  be  all  of  one  mind.  The  people  will  be  on  our 
side.  The  citizens  of  Rome  are  not  populares.  They 
hate  the  populares,  and  prefer  honorable  men.  How 
did  they  weep  in  the  theatres  where  they  heard  the 
news  that  I  was  exiled  !  How  did  they  cheer  my 
name  !  '  Tully,  the  preserver  of  our  liberties  ! '  was 
repeated  a  thousand  times.  Attend  to  me,"  he  said, 
turning  paternally  to  the  high-born  youths  who  were 

^  "  Otium  cum  dignitate." 


270  Ccesar, 

listening  to  him,  "  attend  to  me  when  I  bid  you  walk 
in  the  ways  of  your  forefathers.  Would  you  have 
praise  and  honor,  would  you  have  the  esteem  of  the 
wise  and  good,  value  the  constitution  under  which  you 
live.  Our  ancestors,  impatient  of  kings,  appointed 
annual  magistrates,  and  for  the  administration  they 
nominated  a  Senate  chosen  from  the  whole  people 
into  which  the  road  is  open  for  the  poorest  citizen."  ^ 

So  Cicero,  trying  to  persuade  others,  and  perhaps 
half  persuading  himself,  that  all  might  yet  be  well, 
and  that  the  Roman  Constitution  would  roll  on  upon 
its  old  lines  in  the  face  of  the  scandal  of  Ptolemy  and 
the  greater  scandals  of  Clodius  and  Milo. 

Cicero  might  make  speeches  ;  but  events  followed 
their  inexorable  course.  The  patricians  had  forgotten 
nothing  and  had  learnt  nothing.  The  Senate  had 
voted  thanksgivings  for  Cesar's  victories ;  but  in 
their  hearts  they  hated  him  more  for  them,  because 
they  feared  him  more.  Milo  and  his  gladiators  gave 
them  courage.  The  bitterest  of  the  aristocrats,  Dom- 
itius  Ahenobarbus,  Cato's  brother-in-law  and  praetor 
for  the  year,  was  a  candidate  for  the  consulship. 
His  enormous  wealth  made  his  success  almost  cer- 
tain, and  he  announced  in  the  Senate  that  he  meant" 
to  recall  Cajsar  and  repeal  his  laws.  In  April  a  mo- 
tion was  introduced  in  the  Senate  to  revise  Caesar's 
Land  Act.  Suspicions  had  gone  abroad  that  Cicero 
believed  Caesar's  star  to  be  in  the  ascendant,  and  that 
he  was  again  wavering.  To  clear  himself  he  spoke 
as  passionately  as  Domitius  could  himself  have  wished, 
and  declared  that  he  honored  more  the  resistance  of 
Bibulus  than  all  the  triumphs  in  the  world.  It 
was  time  to  come  to  an  end  with  these  gentlemen. 

1  Abridged  from  the  Oratiopro  Sexlio. ' 


Pompey^  Ccesar^  and  Crassus.  271 

Pompey  was  deeply  committed  to  CaBsar's  agrarian 
law,  for  it  liad  been  passed  primaril}^  to  provide 
for  his  own  disbanded  soldiers.  He  was  the  only 
man  in  Rome  who  retained  any  real  authority  ;  and 
touched,  as  for  a  moment  he  might  have  been,  with 
jealousy,  he  felt  tliat  honor,  duty,  every  principle  of 
prudence  or  patriotism,  required  him  at  so  perilous 
a  crisis  to  give  Caesar  his  firm  support.  Clodius  was 
made  in  some  way  to  understand  that,  if  he  intended 
to  retain  his  influence,  he  must  conform  to  the  wishes 
of  the  army.  His  brother,  Appius,  crossed  the  Alps 
to  see  CiBsar  himself ;  and  Csesar,  after  the  troops 
were  in  their  winter  quarters,  came  over  to  the  north 
of  Italy.  Here  an  interview  was  arranged  between 
the  chiefs  of  the  popular  party.  The  phice  of  meet- 
ing was  Lucca,  on  the  frontier  of  Caesar's  province. 
Pompey,  who  had  gone  upon  a  tour  along  the  coast 
and  through  the  Mediterranean  islands  on  his  corn 
business,  attended  without  concealment  or  mystery. 
Crassus  was  present,  and  more  than  a  hundred  sena- 
tors. The  talking  power  of  the  State  was  in  Rome. 
The  practical  and  real  power  was  in  the  Lucca  con- 
ference. Pompey,  Caesar,  and  Crassus  were  irresisti- 
ble when  heartily  united,  and  a  complete  scheme  was 
arranged  between  them  for  the  government  of  the 
Empire.  There  was  to  be  no  Domitius  Ahenobarbus 
for  a  consul,  or  aristocratic  coups  d'etat,  Pompey  and 
Crassus  were  to  be  consuls  for  the  ensuing  year. 
The  consulship  over,  Pompey  was  to  have  Spain  for 
a  province  for  five  years,  with  an  adeqiuite  army. 
Crassus,  who  was  ambitious  also  of  military  distinc- 
tion, was  to  have  Syria.  Caesar's  command  in  Gaul 
was  to  be  extended  for  five  years  further  in  addition 
to  his  present  term.     The  consent  of  the  Assembly 


272  Coemr, 

was  to  be  secured,  if  difficulty  arose,  by  the  votes  of 
the  army.  The  elections  being  in  the  winter,  Caesar's 
Boldiers  were  to  be  allowed  to  go  to  Rome  on  fur- 
lough. 

In  a  personal  interview  Csesar  easily  asserted  his 
ascendency.  Pompey  allowed  himself  to  be  guided, 
and  the  arrangement  was  probably  dictated  by  Ca2- 
sar's  own  prudence.  He  did  not  mean  to  leave  Gaul 
half  conquered,  to  see  his  work  undone,  and  himself 
made  into  a  plaything  by  men  who  had  incited  Ario- 
vistus*  to  destroy  him.  The  senators  who  were  pres- 
ent at  Lucca  implied  by  their  cooperation  that  they 
too  were  weary  of  anarchy,  and  would  sustain  the  army 
in  a  remodelling  of  the  State  if  milder  measures 
failed. 

Thus,  for  the  moment,  Domitius  and  Cato  were 
baffled.  Domitius  was  not  to  be  consul.  Csesar  was 
not  to  be  recalled,  or  his  laws  repealed.  There  was 
no  hope  for  them  or  for  the  reaction,  till  Pompey  and 
Csesar  could  be  divided ;  and  their  alliance  was  closer 
now  than  ever.  The  aristocratic  party  could  but 
chafe  in  impotent  rage.  The  effect  on  Cicero  was 
curious.  He  had  expected  that  the  Conservative 
movement  would  succeed,  and  he  had  humiliated 
himself  before  the  Senate,  in  the  idle  hope  of  winning 
back  their  favor.  The  conference  at  Lucca  opened 
his  eyes.  For  a  time  at  least  he  perceived  that  Cte- 
sar's  was  the  winning  side,  and  he  excused  himself  for 
going  over  to  it  by  laying  the  blame  on  the  Senate's 
folly  and  ingratitude  to  himself.  Some  private  cor- 
respondence preceded  his  change  of  sides.  He  con- 
sulted Atticus,  and  had  received  characteristic  and 
cautious  advice  from  him.  He  described  in  reply  his 
internal  struggles,  the  resolution  at  which  he  had  ar- 


Cicero  goes  over  to  Ccesar.  273 

rived,  and  the  conclusion  which  he  had  formed  upon 
his  own  past  conduct. 

"  I  am  chewing  what  I  have  to  swallow,"  he  said. 
"  Recantation  does  not  seem  very  creditable ;  but 
adieu  to  straightforward,  honest  counsels.  You  would 
not  believe  the  perfidy  of  these  chiefs ;  as  they  wish 
to  be,  and  what  they  might  be  if  they  had  any  faith 
in  them.  I  had  felt,  I  had  known,  that  I  was  being 
led  on  by  them,  and  then  deserted  and  cast  off;  and 
yet  I  thought  of  making  common  cause  with  them. 
They  were  the  same  which  they  had  always  been. 
You  made  me  see  the  truth  at  last.  You  will  say  you 
warned  me.  You  advised  what  I  should  do,  and  you 
told  me  not  to  write  to  Caesar.  By  Hercules !  I  wished 
to  put  myself  in  a  position  where  I  should  be  obliged 
to  enter  into  this  new  coalition,  and  where  it  would 
not  be  possible  for  me,  even  if  I  desired  it,  to  go  with 
those  who  ought  to  pity  me,  and,  instead  of  pity,  give 
me  grudging  and  envy.  I  have  been  moderate  in 
what  I  have  written.  I  shall  be  more  full  if  Caesar 
meets  me  graciously ;  and  then  those  gentlemen  who 
are  so  jealous  that  I  should  have  a  decent  house  to 

live  in  will  make  a  wry  face Enough  of  this. 

Since  those  who  have  no  power  will  not  be  my  friends, 
1  must  endeavor  to  make  friends  with  those  who 
have.  You  will  say  you  wished  this  long  ago.  I 
know  that  you  wished  it,  and  that  I  have  been  a  mere 
ass ;  1  but  it  is  time  for  me  to  be  loved  by  myself, 
since  I  can  get  no  love  from  them.^ 

Pompey,  after  leaving  Lucca,  sent  Cicero  a  message, 
through  his  brother,  complaining  of  his  speech  on  the 

1  "Me  germanum  asinum  fuisse."    Perhaps  "own  brother  to  an  ass  " 
would  be  am  ire  proper  rendering. 
*  To  Atticua,  iv.  5. 

18 


274  Ccesar, 

Land  Act,  but  assuring  him  of  his  own  and  Csesar's 
friendship  if  he  would  now  be  true  to  them.  In  an 
apologetic  letter  to  Lentulus  Spinther,  Cicero  ex- 
plained and  justified  what  he  meant  to  do. 

"  Pompey,"  he  said,  "  did  not  let  me  know  that  he 
was  offended.  He  went  off  to  Sardinia,  and  on  his 
"way  saw  C'sesar  at  Lucca.  Caesar  was  angry  with 
me;  he  had  seen  Crassus,  and  Crassus  had  prejudiced 
him.  Pompey,  too,  was  himself  displeased.  He  met 
my  brother  a  few  days  after,  and  told  him  to  use  his 
influence  with  me.  He  reminded  him  of  his  exertions 
in  my  behalf ;  he  swore  that  those  exertions  had  been 
made  with  Csesar's  consent,  and  he  begged  particu- 
larly that,  if  I  could  not  support  Csesar,  I  would  not 
go  against  him.  I  reflected.  I  debated  the  matter 
as  if  with  the  Commonwealth.  I  had  suffered  much 
and  done  much  for  the  Commonwealth.  I  had  now 
to  think  of  myself.  I  had  been  a  good  citizen  ;  I 
must  now  be  a  good  man.  Expressions  came  round 
to  me  that  had  been  used  by  certain  persons  whom 
even  j^ou  do  not  like.  They  were  delighted  to  think 
that  I  had  offended  Pompey,  and  had  made  Csesar 
my  mortal  enemy.  This  was  annoying  enough.  But 
the  same  persons  embraced  and  kissed  even  in  my 
presence  my  worst  foe  —  the  foe  of  law,  order,  peace, 
country,  and  every  good  man.^  ....  They  meant 
to  irritate  me,  but  I  had  not  spirit  to  be  angry.  I 
purveyed  my  situation.  I  cast  up  my  accounts ;  and 
I  came  to  a  conclusion,  which  was  briefly  this.  If 
the  State  was  in  the  hands  of  bad  men,  as  in  my  time 
I  have  known  it  to  be,  I  would  not  join  them  though 
they  loaded  me  with  favors ;  but  when  the  first  per- 
son in  the  Commonwealth  was  Pompey,  whose  serv- 

1  Clodius. 


Cicero^s  Explanations.  275 

ices  had  been  so  eminent,  whose  advancement  I  had 
myself  furthered,  and  who  stood  by  me  in  my  difficul- 
ties, I  was  not  inconsistent  if  I  modified  some  of  my 
opinions,  and  conformed  to  the  wishes  of  one  who  has 
deserved  so  well  of  me.  If  I  went  with  Pompey,  I 
must  go  with  Csesar  too  ;  and  here  the  old  friendship 
came  to  bear  between  Csesar,  my  brother,  and  myself, 
as  well  as  Caesar's  kindness  to  me,  of  which  I  had 
seen  evidence  in  word  and  deed Public  inter- 
est, too,  moved  me.  A  quarrel  with  these  men  would 
be  most  inexpedient,  especially  after  what  Csesar  has 

done If  the  persons  who  assisted  in  bringing 

me  back  had  been  my  friends  afterwards,  they  would 
have  recovered  their  power  when  they  had  me  to  help 
them.  The  'good'  had  gained  heart  when  you  were 
consul.  Pompey  was  then  won  to  the  '  good  '  cause. 
Even  Caesar,  after  being  decorated  by  the  Senate  for 
liis  victories,  might  have  been  brought  to  a  better 
judgment,  and  wicked  citizens  would  have  had  no 
opening  to  make  disturbances.  But  what  happened  ? 
These  very  men  protected  Clodius,  who  cared  no 
more  for  the  Bona  Dea  than  for  the  Three  Sisters. 
They  allowed  my  monument  to  be  engraved  with  a 
hostile  record. 1  ....  The  good  party  are  not  as 
you  left  them.  Those  who  ought  to  have  been  staunch 
have  fallen  away.  You  see  it  in  their  faces.  You  see 
.'t  in  the  words  and  votes  of  those  whom  we  called 
*  optimates ; '  so  that  wise  citizens,  one  of  whom  I 
wish  to  be  and  to  be  thought,  must  change  their 
^ourse.  '  Persuade  your  countrymen,  if  you  can,' 
said  Plato  ;  ''but  use  no  violence.'  Plato  found  that 
he  could  no  longer  persuade  the  Athenians,  and  there- 
fore he  withdrew  from  public  life.    Advice  could  not 

1  Here  follows  much  about  himself  and  his  own  merits. 


276  Ccesar, 

move  them,  and  he  held  force  to  be  unlawful.  My 
case  was  different.  I  was  not  called  on  to  undertake 
public  responsibilities.  I  was  content  to  further  my 
own  interests,  and  to  defend  honest  men's  causes. 
Caesar's  goodness  to  me  and  to  my  brother  would 
have  bound  me  to  him  whatever  had  been  his  fort- 
unes. Now  after  so  much  glory  and  victory  I  should 
Bpeak  nobly  of  him  though  I  owed  him  nothing."  ^ 

Happy  it  would  have  been  for  Cicero,  and  happy 
for  Rome,  had  he  persevered  in  the  course  which  he 
now  seemed  really  to  have  chosen.  Cicero  and  Csesar 
united  might  have  restored  the  authority  of  the  laws, 
punished  corruption  and  misgoveriiment,  made  their 
country  the  mother  as  well  as  the  mistress  of  the 
world ;  and  the  Republic,  modified  to  suit  tlie  change 
of  times,  might  have  survived  for  many  generations. 
But  under  such  a  modification  Cicero  would  have  no 
longer  been  the  first  person  in  the  Commonwealth. 
The  talkers  would  have  ceased  to  rule,  and  Cicero 
was  a  talker  only.  He  could  not  bear  to  be  subordi- 
nate. He  was  persuaded  that  he,  and  not  Csesar,  was 
the  world's  real  great  man  ;  and  so  he  held  on,  leaning 
now  to  one  faction  and  now  to  another,  waiting  for 
the  chance  which  was  to  put  him  at  last  in  his  true 
place.  For  the  moment,  however,  he  saved  himself 
from  the  degradation  into  which  the  Senate  precipi- 
tated itself.  The  arrangements  at  Lucca  were  the 
work  of  the  army.  The  Conservative  majority  re- 
fused to  let  the  army  dictate  to  them.  Domitius  in- 
tended still  to  be  consul,  let  the  army  say  what  it 
pleased.     Pompey  and  Crassus  l-eturned  to  Rome  for 

1  To  LentuUis  Spinther,  Ad  Familiares,  i.  9.  The  length  of  this  remark- 
».l)le  letter  obliges  me  to  give  but. an  imperfect  summary  of  it.  The  letter 
itsel:  should  be  studied  carefully  by  those  who  would  understand  Cicero's 
conduct. 


Pompey  and  Crassus  Consuls,  277 

the  elections ;  the  consuls  for  the  year,  Marcelhnua 
and  Philip,  declined  to  take  their  names.  The  con- 
suls and  the  Senate  appealed  to  the  Assembl}^,  the 
Senate  marching  into  the  Forum  in  state,  as  if  calling 
on  the  genius  of  the  nation  to  defend  the  outraged 
constitution.  In  vain.  The  people  would  not  listen. 
The  consuls  were  groaned  down.  No  genius  of  Rome 
presided  in  those  meetings,  but  the  genius  of  revolu- 
tion in  the  person  of  Clodius.  The  senators  were 
driven  back  into  the  Curia,  and  Clodius  followed  them 
there.  The  officers  forbade  his  entrance.  Furious 
3'oung  aristocrats  flew  upon  him,  seized  him,  and 
would  have  murdered  him  in  their  rage.  Clodius 
shrieked  for  help.  His  rascal  followers  rushed  in  with 
lighted  torches,  swearing  to  burn  house  and  Senate  if 
a  hair  of  Clodius's  head  were  hurt.  They  bore  their 
idol  off  in  triumph ;  and  the  wretched  senators  sat 
gazing  at  each  other,  or  storming  at  Pompey,  and  in- 
quiring scornfully  if  he  and  Crassus  intended  to  ap- 
point themselves  consuls.  Pompey  answered  that 
they  had  no  desire  for  office,  but  anarchy  must  be 
brought  to  an  end. 

Still  the  consuls  of  the  year  stubbornly  refused  to 
take  the  names  of  the  Lucca  nominees.  The  year  ran 
out,  and  no  election  had  been  held.  In  such  a  diffi- 
culty, the  constitution  had  provided  for  the  appoint- 
ment of  an  Interrex  till  fresh  consuls  could  be  chosen. 
Pompey  and  Crassus  were  then  nominated,  with  a 
foregone  conclusion.  Domitius  still  persisted  in  stand- 
ing ;  and,  had  it  been  safe  to  try  the  usual  methods, 
the  patricians  would  have  occupied  the  voting  places 
IS  before  with  their  retinues,  and  returned  him  by 
force.  But  young  Publius  Crassus  was  in  Rome  with 
thousands  of  Caesar's  soldiers,  who  had  come  up  to 


278  Coesar. 

vote  from  the  north  of  Italy.  With  these  it  was  not 
safe  to  venture  on  a  conflict,  and  the  consulships  fell 
as  the  Lucca  conference  had  ordered. 

The  consent  of  the  Assembly  to  the  other  arrange- 
ments remained  to  be  obtained.  Caesar  was  to  have 
five  additional  years  in  Gaul ;  Pompey  and  Crassus 
were  to  have  Spain  and  Syria,  also  for  five  years  each, 
as  soon  as  their  year  of  office  should  be  over.  The 
defenders  of  the  constitution  fought  to  the  last.  Cato 
foamed  on  the  Rostra.  When  the  two  hours,  allowed 
him  to  speak,  were  expired,  he  refused  to 
sit  down,  and  was  removed  by  a  guard. 
The  meeting  was  adjourned  to  the  next  day.  Pub- 
lius  Gallus,  another  irreconcilable,  passed  the  night 
in  the  Senate-house,  that  he  might  be  in  his  place  at 
dawn.  Cato  and  Favonius  were  again  at  their  posts. 
The  familiar  cry  was  raised  that  the  signs  of  the  sky 
were  unfavorable.  The  excuse  had  ceased  to  be  legnl. 
The  tribunes  ordered  the  voting  to  go  forward.  The 
last  resource  w^as  then  tried.  A  riot  began,  burt  to 
no  purpose.  The  aristocrats  and  their  clients  were 
beaten  back,  and  the  several  commands  were  ratified. 
As  the  people  were  dispersing,  their  opponents  rallied 
back,  filled  the  Forum,  and  were  voting  Caesar's  re- 
call, when  Pompey  came  on  them  and  swept  them 
out.  Gallus  was  carried  off  covered  with  blood  ;  and, 
to  prevent  further  question,  the  vote  for  Caesar  was 
taken  a  second  time. 

The  immediate  future  was  thus  assured.  Time  had 
been  obtained  for  the  completion  of  the  work  in  Gaul. 
Pompey  dedicated  a  new  theatre,  and  delighted  the 
mob  with  games  and  races.  Five  hundred  lions  were 
consumed  in  five  days  of  combat.  As  a  special  nov- 
elty eighteen  elephants  were  made  to  fight  with  sol- 


A  Spectacle  in  the  Amphitheatre,  279 

diers  ;  and,  as  a  yet  more  extraordinary  phenomenon, 
the  sanguinary  Roman  spectators  showed  signs  of 
compunction  at  their  sufferings.  The  poor  beasts 
were  quiet  and  harmless.  When  wounded  with  the 
lances,  they  turned  away,  threw  up  their  trunks,  and 
trotted  round  the  circus,  crying,  as  if  in  protest 
against  wanton  cruelty.  The  story  went  that  tliey 
were  half  human;  that  they  had  been  seduced  en 
board  the  African  transports  by  a  promise  that  they 
should  not  be  ill-used,  and  they  were  supposed  to  be 
appealing  to  the  gods.^  Cicero  alludes  to  the  scene 
in  a  letter  to  one  of  his  friends.  Mentioning  Pom- 
pey's  exhibitions  with  evident  contempt,  he  adds  : 
"  There  remained  the  hunts,  which  lasted  five  days. 
All  say  that  they  were  very  fine.  But  w^hat  pleasure 
can  a  sensible  person  find  in  seeing  a  clumsy  performer 
torn  by  a  wild  beast,  or  a  noble  animal  pierced  with 
a  hunting  spear?  The  last  day  was  given  to  the  ele- 
phants; not  interesting  to  me,  however  delightful  to 
the  rabble.  A  certain  pity  was  felt  for  them,  as  if 
the  elephants  had  some  afiinity  with  man."  ^ 

^  Dion  Cassius.  ^  Ad  FamUiareSf  vii.  1. 


CHAPTER   XVI. 

While  Csesar  was  struggling  with  the  Senate  for 

leave  to  complete  the  conquest  of  Gaul,  fresh 
B.  c.  56.  ,  ^        .        „      /.        ,  ,V 

work  was  preparing  tor  him  there.      i  oung 

Publius  Crassus,  before  he  went  to  Ital}^  had  win- 
tered with  the  seventh  legion  in  Brittany.  The 
Breton  tribes  had  nominally  made  their  submission, 
and  Crassus  had  desired  them  to  supply  his  com- 
missariat. They  had  given  hostages  for  their  good 
behavior,  and  most  of  them  were  ready  to  obey. 
The  Veneti,  the  most  important  of  the  coast  olans, 
refused.  They  induced  the  rest  to  join  them.  They 
seized  the  Roman  officers  whom  Crassus  had  sent 
among  them,  and  they  then  offered  to  exchange  their 
prisoners  for  their  countrjmen  whom  the  Romans 
held  in  pledge.  The  legions  might  be  irresistible  on 
•and ;  but  the  Veneti  believed  that  their  position 
was  impregnable  to  an  attack  on  the  land  side. 
Their  homes  were  on  the  Bay  of  Quiberon  and  on 
the  creeks  and  estuaries  between  the  mouth  of  the 
Loire  and  Brest.  Their  villages  were  built  on  prom- 
ontories, cut  off  at  high  tide  from  the  mainland, 
approachable  only  by  water,  and  not  by  water  except 
in  shallow  vessels  of  small  draught  which  could  be 
grounded  safely  on  the  mud.  The  population  were 
sailors  and  fishermen.  They  were  ingenious  and  in- 
dustrious, and  they  carried  on  a  considerable  trade  in 
the  Bay  of  Biscay  and  in  the  British  Channel.  They 
had  ships  capable   of  facing  the  heavy   seas   which 


The  Veneti.  281 

rolled  in  from  tbe  Atlantic,  flat-bottomed,  with  high 
bow  and  stern,  built  solidly  of  oak,  with  timbers  a 
foot  thick,  fastened  with  large  iron  nails.  They  had 
iron  chains  for  cables.  Their  sails  —  either  because 
sailcloth  was  scarce,  or  because  they  thought  canvas 
too  weak  for  the  strain  of  the  winter  storms  —  were 
manufactured  out  of  leather.  Such  vessels  were  un- 
wieldly,  but  had  been  found  available  for  voyages 
even  to  Britain.  Their  crews  were  accustomed  to 
handle  them,  and  knew  all  the  rocks  and  shoals  and 
currents  of  the  intricate  and  difiicult  harbors.  They 
looked  on  the  Romans  as  mere  landsmen,  and  natu- 
rally enough  they  supposed  that  they  had  as  little  to 
fear  from  an  attack  by  water  as  from  the  shore.  At 
the  worst  they  could  take  to  their  ships  and  find  a 
refuge  in  the  islands. 

Crassus,  when  he  went  to  Rome,  carried  the  report 
to  Caesar  of  the  revolt  of  the  Veneti,  and  Caesar  felt 
that  unless  they  were  promptly  punished  all  Gaul 
might  be  again  in  flame.  They  had  broken  faith. 
They  had  imprisoned  Roman  officers  who  had  gone 
on  a  peaceful  mission  among  them.  It  was  necessary 
to  teach  a  people  so  restless,  so  hardly  conquered,  and 
so  impatient  of  foreign  dominion,  that  there  was  no 
situation  which  the  Roman  arm  was  unable  to  reach. 

While  the  Lucca  conference  was  going  on,  a  fleet 
of  Roman  galleys  was  built  by  his  order  in  the  Loire. 
Rowers,  seamen,  and  pilots  were  brought  across  from 
Marseilles ;  when  the  season  was  sufficiently  ad- 
vanced for  active  operations,  Csesar  came  himself 
and  rejoined  his  army.  Titus  Labienus  was  sent 
with  three  legions  to  Treves  to  check  the  Germans 
on  the  Rhine,  and  prevent  disturbances  among  the 
Belgse.     Titurius    Sabinus,    with    three    more,    was 


282  CoBsar, 

stationed  in  Normandy.  To  Brittany  Csesar  went  in 
person  to  reduce  the  rebellious  Venel'i.  The  weathei 
was  too  unsettled  for  his  fleet  to  be  able  as  yet  to  join 
him.  Without  its  help  he  found  the  problem  as  difii- 
cult  as  the  Veneti  expected.  Each  village  required 
a  siege ;  when  it  was  reduced,  the  inhabitants  took 
to  their  boats,  and  defied  him  again  in  a  new  posi* 
tion.  Many  weeks  were  thus  fruitlessly  wasted. 
The  fine  weather  at  length  set  in.  The  galleys  from 
the  Loire  came  out,  accompanied  by  others  from 
Rochelle  and  the  mouth  of  the  Garonne.  The  com- 
mand at  sea  was  given  to  Decimus  Brutus,  a  cousin 
of  the  afterwards  famous  Marcus,  a  clever,  able,  and 
so  far  loyal  officer. 

The  Veneti  had  collected  every  ship  that  they  or 
their  allies  possessed  to  defend  themselves.  They 
had  two  hundred  and  twenty  sail  in  all  —  a  force,  con- 
sidering its  character,  extremely  formidable.  Their 
vessels  were  too  strong  to  be  run  down.  The  galleys 
carried  turrets ;  but  the  bows  and  sterns  of  the 
Veneti  were  still  too  lofty  to  be  reached  effectively 
by  the  Roman  javelins.  The  Romans  had  the  advan- 
tage in  speed  ;  but  that  was  all.  They  too,  however, 
had  their  ingenuities.  They  had  studied  the  con- 
struction of  the  Breton  ships.  They  had  provided 
sickles  with  long  handles,  with  which  they  proposed  to 
catch  the  halyards  which  held  the  Weight  of  the 
heavy  leather  sails.  It  was  not  difficult  to  do,  if,  as 
is  probable,  the  halyards  were  made  fast,  not  to  the 
mast,  but  to  the  gunwale.  Sweeping  rapidly  along- 
side they  could  easily  cut  them  ;  the  sails  would  fall, 
and  the  vessels  would  be  unmanageable. 

A  sea  battle  of  this  singular  kind  was  thus  fought 
off  the  eastern  promontory  of  the  Bay  of  Quiberon ; 


Normandy  and  Aquitaine  reduced,  283 

Caesar  and  his  army  looking  on  from  the  shore.  The 
sickles  answered  well ;  ship  after  ship  was  disabh^d  ; 
the  galleys  closed  with  them,  and  they  were  taken  by 
boarding.  The  Veneti  then  tried  to  retreat ;  but  a 
calm  came  on,  and  they  could  not  move.  The  fight 
lasted  from  ten  in  the  morning  till  sunset,  when  the 
entire  Breton  fleet  was  taken  or  sunk. 

After  this  defeat  the  Veneti  gave  up  the  struggle. 
Their  ships  were  all  gone.  Their  best  men  were  on 
board,  and  had  been  killed.  They  had  no  power  of 
resistance  left.  Cassar  was  constitutionally  lenient, 
and  admired  rather  than  resented  a  valiant  fight  for 
freedom.  But  the  Veneti  had  been  treacherous. 
They  had  laid  hands  on  the  sacred  persons  of  Roman 
ambassadors,  and  he  considered  it  expedient  on  this 
one  occasion  to  use  severity.  The  council  who  had 
contrived  the  insurrection  were  put  to  death.  The 
rest  of  the  tribe  were  treated  as  the  Aduatuci  had 
been,  and  were  sold  into  slavery. 

Sabinus,  meanwhile,  had  been  in  difficulties  in 
Normandy.  The  people  there  had  risen  and  killed 
their  chiefs,  who  tried  to  keep  them  quiet ;  vagabonds 
from  other  parts  had  joined  them,  and  Sabinus,  who 
wanted  enterprise,  allowed  the  disturbances  to  be- 
come dangerous.  He  ended  them  at  last,  however, 
successfully,  and  Csesar  would  not  allow  his  caution 
to  be  blamed.  During  the  same  months,  Publius 
Crassus  had  made  a  brilliant  campaign  in  Aquitaine. 
The  Aquitani  had  not  long  before  overthrown  two 
Roman  armies.  Determined  not  to  submit  to  Ca3sar, 
they  had  allied  themselves  with  the  Spaniards  of  the 
Pyrenees,  and  had  officers  among  them  who  had  been 
trained  by  Sertorius.  Crassus  stormed  their  camp 
with  a  skill  and  courage  which   called  out  Caesar's 


284  Coesar. 

highest  approbation,  and  completely  subdued  the 
whole  country. 

In  all  France  there  now  remained  only  a  few  unim- 
portant tribes  on  the  coast  between  Calaifi  and  the 
Scheldt  which  had  not  formally  submitted.  The 
summer  being  nearly  over,  Caesar  contented  himsejf 
with  a  hast}^  survey  of  their  frontier.  The  weather 
broke  up  earlier  than  usual,  and  the  troops  were  re- 
distributed in  their  quarters.  Again  there  had  been 
a  year  of  unbroken  success.  The  Romans  were  mas- 
ters of  Gaul,  and  the  admirable  care  of  their  com- 
mander had  preserved  the  numbers  in  his  legions 
almost  undiminished.  The  smallness  of  the  loss  with 
which  all  these  wonders  were  accomplished  is  per- 
haps the  most  extraordinary  feature  of  the  story. 
Not  till  a  year  later  is  there  any  notice  of  fresh  re- 
cruits being  brought  from  Italy. 

The  winter  which  followed  brought  with  it  another 
of  the  dangerous  waves  of  German  immio^ra- 

,.  rpi  .    1   c  •  .•  C  B.C.  55. 

tion.  ine  poweriui  buevi,  a  nation  ot  war- 
riors who  cultivated  no  lands,  who  wore  no  clothes 
but  a  deer  or  sheep  skin,  who  lived  by  hunting  and 
pasture,  despised  the  restraints  of  stationarj^  life,  and 
roved  at  pleasure  into  their  neighbors'  territories, 
were  pressing  on  the  weaker  tribes  and  forcing  them 
down  into  the  low  countries.  The  Belgians,  hoping 
for  their  help  against  the  Romans,  had  invited  these 
tribes  over  the  Rhine ;  and,  untaught  by  the  fate  of 
Ariovistus,  they  were  crossing  over  and  collecting  in 
enormous  numbers  above  the  junction  of  the  Rhine 
and  the  Meuse.  Into  a  half-peopled  country,  large 
portions  of  which  are  lying  waste,  it  might  be  bar- 
barous to  forbid  an  immigration  of  harmless  and  per- 
secuted strangers  ;  but  if  these  Germans  were  perse- 


Second  German  Invasion,  285 

cuted,  they  were  certainly  not  harmless ;  they  had 
come  at  the  instance  of  the  party  in  Gaul  wliich  was 
determined  to  resist  the  Roman  conquest,  and  unless 
the  conquest  was  to  be  abandoned,  necessity  required 
that  the  immigration  must  be  prohibited.  When  the 
advance  of  spring  allowed  the  troops  to  move,  Caesar 
called  a  council  of  Gallic  chiefs.  He  said  nothing  of 
the  information  which  had  reached  him  respecting 
their  correspondence  with  these  new  invaders,  but 
with  his  usual  swiftness  of  decision  he  made  up  his 
mind  to  act  without  waiting  for  disaffection  to  show 
itself.  He  advanced  at  once  to  the  Ardennes,  where 
he  was  met  by  envoys  from  the  German  camp.  They 
said  that  they  had  been  expelled  from  their  country, 
and  had  come  to  Gaul  in  search  of  a  home ;  they  did 
not  wish  to  quarrel  with  the  Romans  ;  if  Caesar  would 
protect  them  and  give  them  lands,  they  promised  to 
be  useful  to  him  ;  if  he  refused  their  alliance,  they 
declared  that  they  would  defend  themselves.  They 
had  fled  before  the  Sueves,  for  the  Sueves  were  the 
first  nation  in  the  world  ;  the  immortal  gods  were  not 
a  match  for  the  Sueves ;  but  they  were  afraid  of  no 
one  else,  and  Caesar  might  choose  whether  he  would 
have  them  for  friends  or  foes. 

Caesar  replied  that  they  must  not  stay  in  Gaul. 
There  were  no  unoccupied  lands  in  Gaul  which  could 
receive  so  vast  a  multitude.  The  Ubii^  on  their  own 
side  of  the  Rhine  were  allies  of  the  Romans  ;  the 
Ubii,  he  was  willing  to  undertake,  would  provide  for 
them ;  meanwhile  they  must  go  back ;  he  would 
listen  to  no  other  conditions.  The  envoys  departed 
with  their  answer,  begging  Csesar  to  advance  no  far- 
ther till  he  had  again  heard  from  them.     This  oould 

^  Nassau  and  Darmetadt. 


286  Cmar, 

not  be  granted.  The  interval  would  be  employed  in 
communicating  with  the  Gauls.  Caesar  pushed  on, 
crossed  the  Meuse  at  Maestricht,  and  descended  the 
river  to  Venloo,  where  he  was  but  twelve  miles  dis- 
tant from  the  German  headquarters.  Again  messen- 
gers came,  asking  for  time  —  time,  at  least,  till  they 
could  learn  whether  the  Ubii  would  receive  them. 
It  the  Ubii  were  favorable,  they  said  that  they  were 
ready  to  go;  but  they  could  not  decide  without  a 
knowledge  of  what  was  to  become  of  them.  They 
asked  for  a  respite,  if  only  for  three  days. 

Three  days  meant  only  leisure  to  collect  their  scat- 
tered detachments,  that  they  might  make  a  better 
fight.     Csesar  gave,  them  twenty-four  hours. 

The  two  armies  were  so  near  that  their  front  Hues 
were  in  sight  of  each  other.  Caesar  had  given  orders 
to  his  officers  not  to  meddle  with  the  Germans.  But 
the  Germans,  being  undisciplined  and  hot-blooded, 
were  less  easy  to  be  restrained.  A  large  body  of 
them  flung  themselves  on  the  Roman  advanced  guard, 
and  drove  it  in  with  considerable  loss  ;  seventy-four 
Roman  knights  fell,  and  two  Aquitanian  noblemen, 
brothers,  serving  under  Caesar,  were  killed  in  defend- 
ing each  other. 

Caesar  was  not  sorry  for  an  excuse  to  refuse  further 
parley.  The  Germans  were  now  scattered.  In  a 
day  or  two  they  would  be  united  again.  He  knew 
the  effect  which  would  be  produced  on  the  restless 
minds  of  the  Gauls  by  the  news  of  a  reverse  however' 
slight ;  and  if  he  delayed  longer  he  feared  that  the 
country  might  be  on  fire  in  his  rear.  On  the  morn- 
ing which  followed  the  first  action,  the  principal  Ger- 
man chiefs  appeared  to  apologize  and  to  ask  for  a 
truce.    They  had  come  in  of  their  own  accord.    They 


Defeat  of  the  G-ermanB.  287 

had  not  applied  for  a  safe  conduct,  and  war  had  beou 
begun  by  their  own  people.  They  were  detained  as 
prisoners;  and,  marching  rapidly  over  the  sliorfc  space 
wliich  divided  tlie  camps,  Csesar  flung  hiniseli  on  the 
unfortunate  people  when  they  were  entirely  unpre- 
pared for  the  attack.  Their  chiefs  were  gone.  They 
were  lying  about  in  confusion  beside  their  wagons, 
women  and  children  dispersed  among  the  men  ;  hun- 
dreds of  thousands  of  human  creatures,  ignorant 
where  to  turn  for  orders,  and  uncertain  whether  to 
fight  or  fly.  In  this  condition  the  legions  burst  in  on 
them,  furious  at  what  they  called  the  treachery  of 
the  previous  day,  and  merciless  in  their  vengeance. 
The  poor  Germans  stood  bravely  defending  them- 
selves as  they  could  ;  but  the  sight  of  their  women 
flying  in  shrieking  crowds,  pursued  by  the  Roman 
horse,  was  too  much  for  them,  and  the  whole  host 
were  soon  rushing  in  despairing  wreck  down  the  nar- 
rowing isthmus  between  the  Meuse  and  the  Rhine. 
They  came  to  the  junction  at  last,  and  then  they 
could  go  no  further.  Multitudes  were  slaughtered  ; 
multitudes  threw  themselves  into  the  water  and  were 
drowned.  Caesar,  who  was  not  given  to  exaggera- 
tion, says  that  their  original  number  was  430,000. 
The  only  survivors,  of  whom  any  clear  record  re- 
mains, were  the  detachments  who  were  absent  from 
the  battle,  and  the  few  chiefs  who  had  come  into 
Ctesar's  camp  and  continued  with  him  at  their  own 
request  from  fear  of  being  murdered  by  the  Gauls. 

This  affair  was  much  spoken  of  at  the  time,  as  well 
it  might  be.  Questions  were  raised  upon  it  in  tho 
Senate.  Cato  insisted  that  Csesar  had  massacred  a 
defenceless  people  in  a  time  of  truce,  that  he  had 
broken  the  law  of  nations,  and  that  he  ought  to  be 


288  Ccesar, 

given  up  to  the  Germans.  The  sweeping  off  tlie 
earth  in  such  a  manner  of  a  quarter  of  a  million  hu- 
man creatures,  even  in  those  unscrupulous  times, 
could  not  be  heard  of  without  a  shudder.  1  he  irrita- 
tion in  the  Senate  can  hardly  be  taken  as  disinter- 
ested. Men  who  had  intrigued  with  Ariovistus  for 
Ca3sar's  destruction,  needed  not  to  be  credited  with 
feelings  of  pure  humanit}^  when  they  made  the  most 
of  the  opportunity.  But  an  opportunity  had  un- 
doubtedly been  offered  them.  The  rights  of  war 
have  their  limits.  No  living  man  in  ordinary  circum- 
stances recognized  those  limits  more  than  Ctesar  did. 
No  commander  was  more  habitually  merciful  in  vic- 
tor}^  In  this  case  the  limits  had  been  ruthlessly  ex- 
ceeded. The  Germans  were  not  indeed  defending 
their  own  countr^'^ ;  tliey  were  the  invaders  of  an- 
other ;  but  they  were  a  fine  brave  race,  overtaken  by 
fate  when  doing  no  more  than  their  forefathers  had 
done  for  unknown  generations.  The  excuse  for  their 
extermination  was  simply  this  :  that  Caesar  had  un- 
dertaken the  conquest  of  Gaul  for  the  defence  of 
Italy.  A  powerful  party  among  the  Gauls  them- 
selves were  content  to  be  annexed  to  the  Roman  Em- 
pire. The  patriots  looked  to  the  Germans  to  help 
them  in  drivino^  out  the  Romans.  The  Germanizinjj 
of  Gaul  would  lead  with  certainty  to  fresh  invasions 
of  Italy;  and  it  seemed  permissible,  and  even  neces- 
sary, to  put  a  stop  to  these  immigrations  once  for  all, 
and  to  show  Gauls  and  Germans  equally  that  they 
were  not  to  be. 

It  was  not  enough  to  have  driven  the  Germans 
out  of  Gaul.  Csesar  respected  their  character.  He 
Bdmir(^,d  their  abstinence  from  wine,  their  cournge, 
their  frugal  habits,  and  their  pure  morality.     But 


Invasion  of  Grermany,  289 

their  virtues  made  tliem  only  more  dangerous  ;  and 
be  desired  to  show  them  that  the  Roman  arm  was 
long  and  could  reach  them  even  in  their  own  homes. 
Parties  of  the  late  invaders  had  returned  over  the 
Rhine,  and  were  protectpd  by  the  Sigambri  in  West- 
phalia. Cresar  had  demanded  their  surrender,  and 
the  Sigambri  had  answered  that  Roman  authority 
did  not  reach  across  the  river  ;  if  Csesar  forbade  Ger- 
mans to  cross  into  Gaul,  the  Germans  would  not 
allow  the  Romans  to  dictate  to  them  in  their  own 
country.  The  Ubii  were  growing  anxious.  They 
were  threatened  by  the  Sueves  for  deserting  the  na- 
tional cause.  They  begged  CaBsar  to  show  himself 
among  them,  though  his  stay  might  be  but  short,  as 
a  proof  that  he  had  power  and  will  to  protect  them  ; 
and  they  offered  him  boats  and  barges  to  carry  his 
army  over.  Csesar  decided  to  go,  but  to  go  with 
more  ostentation.  The  object  was  to  impress  the 
German  imagination  ;  and  boats  and  barges  which 
miglit  not  always  be  obtainable  would,  if  they  seemed 
essential,  diminish  the  effect.  The  legions  were  skilled 
workmen,  able  to  turn  their  hand  to  anything.  He 
determined  to  make  a  bridge;  and  he  chose  Bonn  for 
the  site  of  it.  The  river  was  broad,  deep,  and  rapid. 
The  materials  were  still  standing  in  the  forest ;  yet 
in  ten  days  from  the  first  stroke  that  was  delivered 
by  an  axe,  a  bridge  had  been  made  standing  firmly 
on  rows  of  piles  with  a  road  over  it  forty  feet  wide. 
A  strong  guard  was  left  at  each  end.  Ctjesar  marched 
across  with  the  legions,  and  from  all  sides  deputations 
from  the  astonished  people  poured  in  to  beg  for  peace. 
The  Sigambri  had  fled  to  their  woods.  The  Suevi 
fell  back  into  the  Thuringian  forests.  He  burnt  the 
villages  of  the  Sigambri,   to  leave  the  print  of  hi 

19 


290  Ccesar. 

presence.  He  paid  the  Ubii  a  long  visit ;  and  after 
remaining  eighteen  days  beyond  tlie  river,  he  con- 
sidered that  his  purpose  had  been  gained,  and  he  re- 
turned to  Gaul,  destroying  the  bridge  behind  him. 

It  was  now  about  the  beginning  of  August.  A  few 
weeks  only  of  possible  fine  weather  remained.  Gaul 
was  quiet,  not  a  tribe  was  stirring.  The  people  were 
stunned  by  Caesar's  extraordinary  performances. 
West  of  the  Channel  which  washed  the  shores  of  the 
Belgse,  lay  an  island  where  the  enemies  of  Rome  had 
found  shelter,  and  from  which  help  had  been  sent  to 
the  rebellious  Bretons.  Caesar,  the  most  skilful  and 
prudent  of  generals,  was  yet  adventurous  as  a  knight 
errant.  There  was  still  time  for  a  short  expedition 
into  Britain.  As  yet  noticing  was  known  of  tliat 
country,  save  the  white  cliffs  which  could  be  seen 
from  Calais  ;  Roman  merchants  occasionally  touched 
there,  but  they  had  never  ventured  into  the  interior; 
the}'  could  give  no  information  as  to  the  size  of  the 
island,  the  qualities  of  the  harbors,  the  character  or 
habits  of  the  inhabitants.  Complete  ignorance  of 
such  near  neighbors  was  undesirable  and  inconven- 
ient; and  Caesar  wished  to  look  at  them  with  his 
own  eyes.  The  fleet  which  had  been  used  in  the  war 
with  the  Veueti  was  sent  round  into  the  Channel. 
He  directed  Caius  Volusenus,  an  officer  whom  he 
could  trust,  to  take  a  galley  and  make  a  survey  of 
the  opposite  coast,  and  he  himself  followed  to  Bou- 
logne, where  his  vessels  were  waiting  for  liim.  The 
gathering  of  the  flotilla  and  its  object  had  been  re- 
ported to  Britain,  and  envoys  from  various  tribes 
were  waiting  there  with  offers  of  hostages  and  hum- 
ble protestations.  Cassar  received  them  graciously, 
and  sent  back  with  them  a  Gaul,  named  Commius, 


First  Expedition  into  Britain.  291 

whom  he  had  made  chief  of  the  Atrebates,  to  tell 
the  people  that  he  was  coming  over  as  a  friend,  and 
that  they  had  nothing  to  fear. 

Volusenas  returned  after  five  days'  absence,  having 
been  unable  to  gather  anything  of  importance.  The 
ships  which  had  come  in  were  able  only  to  take  across 
two  legions,  probably  at  less  than  their  full  comple- 
ment—  or  at  most  ten  thousand  men  ;  but  for  Cse- 
Bar's  present  purpose  these  were  sufficient.  Leaving 
Sabinus  and  Cotta  in  charge  of  the  rest  of  the  army, 
he  sailed  on  a  calm  evening,  and  was  off  Dover  in  the 
morning.  The  cliffs  were  lined  with  painted  war- 
riors, and  hung  so  close  over  the  water  that  if  he  at- 
tempted to  land  there  stones  and  lances  could  reach 
the  boats  from  the  edge  of  the  precipice.  He  called 
his  officers  about  him  while  his  fleet  collected,  and 
said  a  few  encouraging  words  to  them  ;  he  then  moved 
up  the  coast  with  the  tide,  apparently  as  far  as  Wal- 
mer  or  Deal.  Here  the  beach  was  open  and  the  water 
deep  near  the  land.  The  Britons  had  followed  by 
the  brow  of  the  cliff,  scrambling  along  with  their  cars 
and  horses.  The  shore  was  covered  with  them,  and 
they  evidently  meant  to  fight.  The  transports  an- 
chored where  the  water  was  still  up  to  the  men's 
shoulders.  They  were  incumbered  with  their  arms, 
and  did  not  like  the  look  of  what  was  before  them. 
Seeing  them  hesitate,  Caesar  sent  his  armed  galleys 
filled  with  archers  and  crossbowmen  to  clear  the  ap- 
proach ;  and  as  the  legionaries  still  hesitated,  an  offi- 
cer who  carried  the  eagle  of  the  10th  leapt  into  the 
sea  and  bade  his  comrades  follow  if  they  wished  to 
save  their  standard.  They  sprang  overboard  with  a 
g*^,neral  cheer.  The  Britons  rode  their  horses  into 
the  waves  to  meet  them  ;  and  for  a  few  minutes  the 


292  Gcesar. 

Romans. could  make  no  progress.  Boats  came  to 
their  help,  which  kept  back  the  most  active  of  their 
opponents,  and  once  on  land  they  were  in  their  own 
element.  The  Britons  galloped  off,  and  Caesar  had 
no  cavalry. 

A  camp  was  then  formed.  Some  of  the  ships  were 
left  at  anchor,  others  were  brought  on  shore,  and  were 
hauled  up  to  the  usual  high-water  mark.  Commius 
came  in  with  deputations,  and  peace  was  satisfactorily 
arranged.  All  went  well  till  the  fourth  day,  when 
the  full  moon  brought  the  spring  tide,  of  which  the 
Romans  had  no  experience  and  had  not  provided  for 
it.  Heavy  weather  came  up  along  with  it.  The  gal- 
leys on  the  beach  were  floated  off ;  the  transports  at 
anchor  parted  their  cables  ;  some  were  driven  on  shore, 
some  out  into  the  Channel.  Caesar  was  in  real  anx- 
iety. He  had  no  means  of  procuring  a  second  fleet. 
He  had  made  no  preparations  for  wintering  in  Britain. 
The  legions  had  come  light,  without  tents  or  baggage, 
as  he  meant  to  stay  no  longer  than  he  had  done  in 
Germany,  two  or  three  weeks  at  most.  Skill  and 
energy  repaired  the  damage.  The  vessels  which  had 
gone  astray  were  recovered.  Those  which  were  least 
injured  were  repaired  with  the  materials  of  the  rest. 
Twelve  only  were  lost,  the  others  were  made  sea- 
worthy. 

The  Britons,  as  Caesar  expected,  had  taken  heart  at 
the  disaster.  They  broke  their  agreement,  and  fell 
upon  his  outposts.  Seeing  the  small  number  of  Ro- 
mans, they  collected  in  force,  in  the  hope  that  if  they 
could  destroy  the  first  comers  no  more  such  unwelcome 
visitors  would  ever  arrive  to  trouble  them^  A  sharp 
action  taught  them  their  mistake ;  and  after  many  of 
the  poor  creatures  had  been  killed,  they  brought  in 


Naval  Preparations,  293 

hostages,  and  again  begged  for  peace.  The  equinox 
was  now  coming  on.  The  weather  was  again  threat- 
ening. Postponing,  therefore,  further  inquiries  into 
the  nature  of  the  British  and  their  country,  Caisar 
used  the  first  favorable  opportunity,  and  returned, 
without  further  adventure,  to  Boulogne.  The  legions 
were  distributed  among  the  Belgse;  and  CIsesar  him- 
self, who  could  have  no  rest,  hastened  over  the  Alps, 
to  deal  with  other  disturbances  which  had  broken  out 
in  lllyria. 

The  bridge  over  the  Rhine  and  the  invasion  of  a 
country  so  rem-ote  that  it  was  scarcely  be- 

B.  C.  54 

lieved  to  exist,  roused  the  enthusiasm  at  '  '  ' 
Rome  beyond  the  point  which  it  had  hitherto  reached. 
The  Roman  popuhice  was  accustomed  to  victories,  but 
these  were  portents  like  the  achievements  of  the  old 
demigods.  The  humbled  Senate  voted  twenty  days 
of  thanksgiving ;  and  faction,  controlled  by  Pompey, 
was  obliged  to  be  silent. 

The  Illyrian  troubles  were  composed  without  fight- 
ing, and  the  interval  of  winter  was  spent  in  prepara- 
tions for  a  renewal  of  the  expedition  into  Britain  on 
a  larger  scale.  Orders  had  been  left  with  the  ofl&cers 
in  command  to  prepare  as  many  transports  as  the 
time  would  allow,  broader  and  lower  in  the  side  for 
greater  convenience  in  loading  and  unloading.  In 
April,  Csesar  returned.  He  visited  the  different  sta- 
tions, and  he  found  that  his  expert  legionaries,  work- 
ing incessantly,  had  built  six  hundred  transports  and 
twenty-eight  armed  galleys.  All  these  were  finished 
and  ready  to  be  launched.  He  directed  that  they 
should  collect  at  Boulogne  as  before;  and  in  the  in- 
terval he  paid  a  visit  to  the  north  of  Gaul,  where 
there  were  rumors  of  fresh  correspondence  with  the 


294  Ccesar. 

Germans.  Danger,  if  danger  there  was,  was  threat- 
ened by  the  Treveri,  a  powerful  tribe  still  unbroken 
on  the  Moselle.  Caesar,  however,  had  contrived  to 
attach  the  leading  chiefs  to  the  Roman  interest.  He 
found  nothing  to  alarm  hira,  and  once  more  went 
doAvn  to  the  sea.  In  his  first  venture  he  had  been 
embarrassed  by  want  of  cavalry.  He  was  by  this 
time  personally  acquainted  with  the  most  influential 
of  the  Gallic  nobles.  He  had  requested  thera  to  at- 
tend him  into  Britain  with  their  mounted  retinues, 
both  for  service  in  the  field  and  that  he  might  keep 
these  restless  chiefs  under  his  eye.  Among  the  rest 
he  had  not  overlooked  the  ^duan  prince,  Dumnorix, 
whose  intrigues  had  brought  the  Helvetii  out  of  Switz- 
erland, and  whose  treachery  had  created  difficulty 
and  nearly  disaster  in  the  first  campaign.  Dumnorix 
had  not  forgotten  his  ambition.  He  had  affected 
penitence,  and  he  had  been  treated  with  kindness. 
He  had  availed  himself  of  the  favor  which  had  been 
shown  to  him  to  pretend  to  his  countrymen  that  Cae- 
sar had  promised  him  the  chieftainship.  He  had  peti- 
tioned earnestl}^  to  be  excused  from  accompanying  the 
expedition,  and,  Csesar  having  for  this  reason  prob- 
ably the  more  insisted  upon  it,  he  had  persuaded  the 
other  chiefs  that  Caesar  meant  to  destroy  them,  and 
that  if  they  went  to  Britain  they  would  never  return. 
These  whisperings  were  reported  to  Caesar.  Dum- 
norix had  come  to  Boulogne  with  the  rest,  and  he  or- 
dered him  to  be  watched.  A  long  westerly  wind  had 
prevented  Caesar  from  embarking  as  soon  as  he  had 
wished.  The  weather  changed  at  last,  and  the  troops 
were  ordered  on  board.  Dumnorix  slipped  away  in 
the  contusion  with  a  party  of  -3jiduan  horse,  and  it 
was  now  certain  that  he  had  sinister  intentions.    The 


Second  Invasion  of  Britain,  295 

embarkation  was  suspended.  A  detachment  of  cav- 
alry was  sent  in  pursuit,  with  directions  to  bring 
Dumnorix  back  dead  or  aUve.  Dumnorix  resisted, 
and  was  killed. 

No  disturbance  followed  on  his  death.  The  re- 
maining chiefs  were  loyal,  or  wished  to  appear  loyal, 
and  further  delay  was  unnecessary.  Labienus,  whom 
Caesar  thoroughly  trusted,  remained  behind  with  three 
legions  and  two  thousand  horse  to  watch  over  Gaul ; 
and  on  a  fine  summer  evening,  with  a  light  air  from 
the  south,  Caesar  sailed  at  sunset  on  the  20th  of  July. 
He  had  five  legions  with  him.  He  had  as  many  cav- 
alry as  he  had  left  with  Labienus.  His  flotilla,  swol- 
len by  volunteers,  amounted  to  eight  hundred  vessels, 
small  and  great.  At  sunrise  they  were  in  midchan- 
nel,  lying  in  a  dead  calm,  with  the  cliffs  of  Britain 
plainly  visible  on  their  left  hand.  The  tide  was  flow- 
ing. Oars  were  out;  the  legionaries  worked  with 
such  enthusiasm  that  the  transports  kept  abreast  of 
the  war  galleys.  At  noon  they  had  reached  the  beach 
at  Deal,  where  this  time  they  found  no  enemy  to  op- 
pose their  landing ;  the  Britons  had  been  terrified  at 
the  multitude  of  ships  and  boats  in  which  the  power 
of  Rome  was  descending  on  them,  and  had  fled  into 
the  interior.  The  water  was  smooth,  the  disembark- 
ation easy.  A  camp  was  drawn  out  and  intrenched, 
and  six  thousand  men,  with  a  few  hundred  horse, 
were  told  off  to  guard  it.  The  fleet  was  left  riding 
quietly  at  anchor,  the  pilots  ignorant  of  the  meaning 
of  the  treacherous  southern  air  which  had  been  so 
welcome  to  them ;  and  CEesar  advanced  inland  as  far 
as  the  Stour.  The  Britons,  after  an  unsuccessful 
Bland  to  prevent  the  Romans  from  crossing  the  river, 
retired  into  the  woods,  where  they  had  made  them- 


296  Ccesar. 

selves  a  fortress  with  felled  trees.  The  weak  defence 
was  easily  stormed  ;  the  Britons  were  flying  ;  the  Ro- 
mans were  preparing  to  follow ;  when  an  express 
came  from  Deal  to  tell  Caesar  that  a  gale  had  risen 
again,  and  the  fleet  was  lying  wrecked  upon  the 
shore.  A  second  accident  of  the  same  kind  might 
have  seemed  an  omen  of  evil,  but  Cj^sar  did  not  be- 
lieve in  omens.  The  even  temperament  of  his  mind 
was  never  discomposed,  and  at  each  moment  he  was 
able  always  to  decide,  and  to  do,  what  the  moment 
required.  The  army  was  halted.  He  rode  back  him- 
self to  the  camp,  to  find  that  forty  of  his  vessels  only 
were  entirely  ruined.  The  rest  were  injured,  but  not 
irreparably.  They  were  hauled  up  within  the  lines 
of  the  camp.  He  selected  the  best  mechanics  out  of 
the  legions ;  he  sent  across  to  Labienus  for  more,  and 
directed  him  to  build  fresh  transports  in  the  yards  at 
Boulogne.  The  men  worked  night  and  da}^,  and  in 
little  more  than  a  week  Csesar  was  able  to  rejoin  his 
troops  and  renew  his  march. 

The  object  of  the  invasion  had  been  rather  to  se- 
cure the  quiet  of  Gaul  than  the  annexation  of  new 
subjects  and  further  territory.  But  it  could  not  be 
obtained  till  the  Romans  had  measured  themselves 
against  the  Britons,  and  had  asserted  their  military 
superiority.  The  Britons  had  already  shown  them- 
selves a  fearless  race,  who  could  not  be  despised. 
They  fought  bravely  from  their  cars  and  horses,  re- 
treated rapidly  when  overmatched,  and  were  found 
dangerous  when  pursued.  Encouraged  by  the  report 
of  the  disaster  to  the  fleet,  Cassibelaunus,  chief  of 
the  Cassi,  whose  headquarters  were  at  St.  Albans, 
had  collected  a  considerable  army  from  both  sides  of 
the  Thames,  and  was  found  in  strength  in  Caesar's 


Second  Invasion  of  Britain.  297 

front  when  he  again  began  to  move.  They  attacked 
his  foraging  parties.  They  set  on  his  flanking  de- 
tachments. They  left  their  cars,  and  fought  on  foot 
when  they  could  catch  an  advantage ;  and  remounted 
and  were  swiftly  oat  of  the  reach  of  the  heavily 
armed  Roman  infantry.  The  Gauhsh  horse  pursued, 
but  did  not  know  the  country,  and  suffered  more 
harm  than  they  inflicted.  Thus  the  British  gave 
Caesar  considerable  trouble,  which  he  recorded  to 
their  credit.  Not  a  word  can  be  found  in  his  Com- 
mentaries to  the  disparagement  of  brave  and  open  ad- 
versaries. At  length  he  forced  them  into  a  battle, 
where  their  best  warriors  were  killed.  The  confed- 
eracy of  tribes  dissolved,  and  never  rallied  again,  and 
he  pursued  his  march  thenceforward  with  little  mo- 
lestation. He  crossed  the  Medway,  and  reached  the 
Thames  seemingly  at  Sunbury.  There  was  a  ford 
there,  but  the  river  was  still  deep,  the  ground  was 
staked,  and  Cassibelaunus  with  his  own  people  was 
on  the  other  side.  The  legions,  however,  paid  small 
attention  to  Cassibelaunus ;  they  plunged  through 
with  the  water  at  their  necks.  The  Britons  dis- 
persed, driving  off  their  cattle,  and  watching  his 
march  from  a  distance.  The  tribes  from  the  eastern 
counties  made  their  submission,  and  at  Caesar's  or- 
ders supplied  him  with  corn.  Caesar  marched  on  to 
St.  Albans  itself,  then  lying  in  the  midst  of  forests 
jind  marshes,  where  •  the  cattle,  the  Cassi's  only 
wealth,  had  been  collected  'for  security.  St.  Albans 
and  the  cattle  were  taken  ;  Cassibelaunus  sued  for 
peace ;  the  days  were  drawing  in  ;  and  Caesar,  having 
no  intention  of  wintering  in  Britain,  considered  he 
had  done  enough,  and  need  go  no  farther.  He  re- 
turned as  he  had  come.     The  Kentish  men  had  at- 


298  Ccesar. 

tacked  the  camp  in  his  absence,  but  had  been  beaten 
off  with  heavy  loss.  The  Romans  had  sallied  out  upon 
them,  killed  as  many  as  they  could  catch,  and  taken 
one  of  their  chiefs.  Thenceforward  they  had  been 
left  in  quiet.  A  nominal  tribute,  which  was  never 
paid,  was  assigned  to  the  tribes  who  had  submitted. 
The  fleet  was  in  order,  and  all  was  ready  for  depart- 
ure The  only,  but  unhappily  too  valuable,  booty 
which  they  had  carried  off  consisted  of  some  thousands 
of  prisoners.  These,  when  landed  in  Gaul,  were  dis- 
posed of  to  contractors,  to  be  carried  to  Italy  and 
sold  as  slaves.  Two  trips  were  required  to  transport 
the  increased  numbers  ;  but  the  passage  was  accom- 
plished without  accident,  and  the  whole  army  was 
again  at  Boulogne. 

Thus  ended  the  expedition  into  Britain.  It  had 
been  undertaken  rather  for  effect  than  for  material 
advantage ;  and  everything  which  had  been  aimed  at 
had  been  gained.  The  Gauls  looked  no  more  across 
the  Channel  for  support  of  insurrections  ;  the  Ro- 
mans talked  with  admiration  for  a  century  of  the  far 
land  to  which  Caesar  had  borne  the  eagles  ;  and  no 
exploit  gave  him  more  fame  with  his  contemporaries. 
Nor  was  it  without  use  to  have  solved  a  geographical 
problem,  and  to  have  discovered  with  certainty  what 
the  country  was,  the  white  cliffs  of  which  were  visi- 
ble from  the  shores  which  were  now  Roman  territory. 
Caesar  during  his  stay  in  Britain  had  acquired  a  fairly 
accurate  notion  of  it.  He  knew  that  it  was  an  isl- 
and, and  he  knew  its  dimensions  and  shape.  He 
knew  that  Ireland  lay  to  the  west  of  it,  and  Ireland, 
he  had  been  told,  was  about  half  its  size.  He  had 
heard  of  the  Isle  of  Man,  and  how  it  was  situated. 
To  the  extreme  north  above  Britain  he  had  ascer« 


Account  of  Britain.  299 

tained  that  there  were  other  islands,  where  in  winter 
the  sun  scarcely  rose  above  the  horizon  ;  and  he  had 
observed  through  accurate  measurement  by  water- 
clocks  that  the  midsummer  nights. in  Britain  were 
shorter  than  in  the  south  of  France  and  Italy.  He 
had  inquired  into  the  natural  products  of  the  coun- 
try. There  were  tin  mines,  he  found,  in  parts  of  the 
island,  and  iron  in  small  quantities ;  but  copper  ;va3 
imported  from  the  Continent.  The  vegetation  re- 
sembled that  of  France,  save  that  he  saw  no  beech 
and  no  spruce  pine.  Of  more  consequence  were  the 
people  and  the  distribution  of  them.  The  Britons  of 
the  interior  he  conceived  to  be  indigenous.  The  coast 
was  chiefly  occupied  by  immigrants  from  Belgium,  as 
could  be  traced  in  the  nomenclature  of  places.  The 
country  seemed  thickly  inhabited.  The  flocks  and 
herds  were  large  ;  and  farm  buildings  were  frequent, 
resembling  those  in  Gaul.  In  Kent  especially,  civil- 
ization was  as  far  advanced  as  on  the  opposite  conti- 
nent. The  Britons  proper  from  the  interior  showed 
fewer  signs  of  progress.  They  did  not  break  the 
ground  for  corn  ;  they  had  no  manufactures  ;  they 
lived  on  meat  and  milk,  and  were  dressed  in  leather. 
They  dyed  their  skins  blue  that  they  might  look  more 
terrible.  They  wore  their  hair  long,  and  had  long 
moustaches.  In  their  habits  they  had  not  risen  out 
\)i  the  lowest  order  of  savagery.  They  had  wives  in 
common,  and  brothers  and  sisters,  parents  and  chil- 
dren, lived  together  with  promiscuous  unrestraint. 
PVom  such  a  country  not  much  was  to  be  gained  in 
the  way  of  spoil ;  nor  had  much  been  expected.  Since 
Cicero's  conversion,  his  brother  Quintus  had  joined 
Caesar,  and  was  now  attending  him  as  one  of  his 
lieutenant-generals.     The  brothers  were  in  intimate 


300  Cmar, 

correspondence.  Cicero,  thougli  he  watched  the 
British  expedition  with  interest,  anticipated  that 
Quintus  would  bring  nothing  of  value  back  with  him 
but  slaves  ;  and  he  warned  his  friend  Atticus,  who 
dealt  extensively  in  such  commodities,  that  the  slaves 
from  Britain  would  not  be  found  of  superior  qual- 

^  "Britannici  belli  exitus  exspectatur.  Constat  enim,  aditus  insulaa 
esse  munitos  mirificis  molibus.  Etiam  illud  jam  cogjnitum  est,  neque  ar- 
genti  scrupulum  esse  ullum  in  ilia  insula,  neque  ullam  spem  praedje,  nisi 
ex  mancipiis:  ex  quibis  nuUos  puto  te  litteris  aut  musicis  eruditos  exspec- 
tare."— ^c?  Atticum,  iv.  16.  It  does  not  appear  what  Cicero  meant  by 
the  "  mirificae  moles  "  which  guarded  the  approaches  to  Britain,  whether 
Dover  Cliff  or  the  masses  of  sand  under  water  at  the  Goodwins. 


CHAPTER  XVII. 

The  summer  had  passed  off  gloriously  for  the  Ra- 
man arms.  The  expedition  to  Britain  had 
produced  all  the  effects  which  Caesar  ex- 
pected from  it,  and  Gaul  was  outwardly  calm.  Be- 
low the  smooth  appearance  the  elements  of  disquiet 
were  silently  working,  and  the  winter  was  about  to 
produce  the  most  serious  disaster  and  the  sharpest 
trials  which  Caesar  had  yet  experienced.  On  his  re- 
turn from  Britain  he  held  a  council  at  Amiens.  The 
harvest  had  been  bad,  and  it  was  found  expedient, 
for  their  better  provision,  to  disperse  the  troops  over 
a  broader  area  than  usual.  There  were  in  all  eight 
legions,  with  part  of  another  to  be  disposed  of,  and 
they  were  distributed  in  the  following  order ;  Lucius 
Roscius  was  placed  at  S^ex,  in  Normandy;  Quintus 
Cicero  at  Charleroy,  not  far  from  the  scene  of  the 
battle,  with  the  Nervii.  Cicero  had  chosen  this  posi- 
tion for  himself  as  peculiarly  advantageous  ;  and  his 
brother  speaks  of  Csesar's  acquiescence  in  the  ar- 
rangement as  a  special  mark  of  favor  to  himself. 
Labienus  was  at  Lavacherie,  on  the  Ourthe,  about 
seventy  miles  to  the  southeast  of  Cicero  ;  and  Sabi- 
uus  and  Cotta  were  at  Tongres,  among  the  Aduatuci, 
not  far  from  Li^ge,  an  equal  distance  from  him  to  the 
northeast.  Caius  Fabius  had  a  legion  at  St.  Pol,  be- 
tween Calais  and  Arras  ;  Trebonius  one  at  Amiens ; 
Marcus  Crassus  one  at  Montdidier ;  Munatius  Plan- 
cus  one  across  the  Oise,  near  Compi^gne.     Roscius 


802  Omar. 

was  far  off,  but  in  a  comparatively  cjuLet  counory. 
The  other  camps  lay  within  a  circle,  two  hundred 
miles  in  diameter,  of  which  Bavay  was  the  centre. 
Amiens  was  at  one  point  on  the  circumference.  Ton- 
gres,  on  the  opposite  side  of  it,  to  the  northeast. 
Sabin  us,  beinp'  the  most  exposed,  had,,  in  addition  to 
his  legion,  a  lew  cohorts  lately  raised  in  Italy.  Caesar, 
having  no  particular  business  to  take  him  over  the 
Alps,  remained  with  Trebonius  attending  to  general 
business.  His  dispositions  had  been  carefully  watched 
by  the  Gauls.  Caasar,  they  supposed,  would  go  away 
as  usual ;  they  even  believed  that  he  had  gone ;  and 
a  conspiracy  was  formed  in  the  north  to  destroy  the 
legions  in  detail. 

The  instigator  of  the  movement  was  Induciomarus, 
the  leader  of  the  patriot  party  among  the  Treveri, 
whose  intrigues  had  taken  Caesar  to  the  Moselle  be- 
fore the  first  visit  to  Britain.  At  that  time  Inducio- 
marus had  been  able  to  do  nothing  ;  but  a  fairer  op- 
portunity had  arrived.  The  overthrow  of  the  great 
German  horde  had  affected  powerfully  the  semi-Teu- 
tonic populations  on  the  left  bank  of  the  Rhine.  The 
Eburones,  a  large  tribe  of  German  race  occupying 
the  country  between  Liege  and  Cologne,  had  given  in 
their  submission  ;  but  their  strength  was  still  undi- 
minished, and  Induciomarus  prevailed  on  their  two 
chiefs,  Ambiorix  and  Catavolcus,  to  attack  Sabinus 
and  Cotta.  It  was  midwinter.  The  camp  at  Ton- 
gres  was  isolated.  The  nearest  support  was  seventy 
miles  distant.  If  one  Roman  camp  was  taken,  In- 
duciomarus calculated  that  the  country  woCild  rise  ; 
the  others  could  be  separately  surrounded,  and  Gaul 
would  be  free.  The  plot  was  well  laid.  An  in- 
trenched camp  being  difficult  to  storm,  the  confeder* 


Revolt  of  the  Uburones,  303 

ates  decided  to  begin  by  treachery.  Ambiorix  was 
personally  known  to  many  of  the  Roman  officers. 
He  sent  to  Sabinus  to  say  that  he  wished  to  commu- 
nicate with  him  on  a  matter  of  the  greatest  conse- 
quence. An  interview  being  granted,  he  stated  that 
a  general  conspiracy  had  been  formed  through  the 
whole  of  Gaul  to  surprise  and  destroy  the  legions. 
Each  station  was  to  be  attacked  on  the  same  dar, 
that  they  might  be  unable  to  support  each  other. 
He  pretended  himself  to  have  remonstrated  ;  but  his 
tribe,  he  said,  had  been  carried  away  by  the  general 
enthusiasm  for  liberty,  and  he  could  not  keep  them 
back.  Vast  bodies  of  Germans  had  crossed  the  Rhine 
to  join  in  the  war.  In  two  days  at  the  furthest  they 
would  arrive.  He  was  under  private  obligations  to 
Caesar,  who  had  rescued  his  son  and  nephew  in  the 
fight  with  the  Aduatuci,  and  out  of  gratitude  he 
wished  to  save  Sabinus  from  destruction,  wliich  was 
otherwise  inevitable.  He  urged  him  to  escape  while 
there  was  still  time,  and  to  join  either  Labienus  or 
Cicero,  giving  a  solemn  promise  that  he  should  not  be 
molested  on  the  noad. 

A  council  of  officers  was  held  on  the  receipt  of  this 
unwelcome  information.  It  was  thought  unlikely 
chat  the  Eburones  would  rise  by  themselves.  It  was 
probable  enough,  therefore,  that  the  conspiracy  was 
more  extensive.  Cotta,  who  was  second  in  command, 
was  of  opinion  that  it  would  be  rash  and  wrong  to 
leave  the  camp  without  Caesar's  orders.  They  had 
abundant  provisions.  They  could  hold  their  own 
hues  against  any  force  which  the  Germans  could 
bring  upon  them,  and  help  would  not  be  long  in 
reaching  them.  It  would  be  preposterous  to  take  so 
grave  a  step  on  the  advice  of  an  enemy.     Sabinus  un- 


304  Ccesar. 

fortunately  thought  differently.  He  had  been  over- 
cautious in  Brittany,  though  he  had  afterwards  re- 
deemed his  fault.  Csesar,  he  persuaded  himself,  had 
left  the  country  ;  each  commander  therefore  must  act 
on  his  own  responsibility.  The  story  told  by  Am- 
biorix  was  likely  in  itself.  The  Germans  were  known 
to  be  furious  at  the  passage  of  the  Rhine,  the  destruc- 
tion of  Ariovistus,  and  their  other  defeats.  Gaul  r3- 
sented  the  loss  of  its  independence.  Ambiorix  was 
acting  like  a  true  friend,  and  it  would  be  madness  to 
refuse  his  offer.  Two  days'  march  would  bring  them 
to  their  friends.  If  the  alarm  was  false,  they  could 
return.  If  there  was  to  be  a  general  insurrection, 
the  legions  could  not  be  too  speedily  brought  together. 
If  they  waited,  as  Cotta  advised,  the}^  would  be  sur- 
rounded, and  in  the  end  would  be  starved  into  sur- 
render. 

Cotta  was  not  convinced,  and  the  majority  of  offi- 
cers supported  him.  The  first  duty  of  a  Roman 
army,  he  said,  was  obedience  to  orders.  Their  busi- 
ness was  to  hold  the  post  which  had  been  committed 
to  them,  till  they  were  otherwise  directed.  The  offi- 
cers were  consulting  in  the  midst  of  the  camp,  sur- 
rounded by  the  legionaries.  "  Have  it  as  you  wish," 
Sabinus  exclaimed,  in  a  tone  which  the  men  could 
hear ;  "  I  am  not  afraid  of  being  killed.  If  things 
go  amiss,  the  troops  will  understand  where  to  lay  the 
blame.  If  you  allowed  it  they  might  in  forty-eight 
hours  be  at  the  next  quarters,  facing  the  chances  of 
war  with  their  comrades,  instead  of  perishing  here 
alone  by  sword  or  hunger." 

Neither  party  would  give  way.  The  troops  joined 
in  the  discussion.  They  were  willing  either  to  go  or 
to  stay,  if  their  commanders  would  agree ;  but  they 


Revolt  of  the  JEJburones,  805 

said  that  it  must  be  one  thing  or  the  other  ;  disputes 
would  be  certain  ruin.  The  discussion  lasted  till 
midnight.  Sabinus  was  obstinate,  Cotta  at  last  with- 
drew his  opposition,  and  the  fatal  resolution  was 
formed  to  march  at  dawn.  The  remaining  hours  of 
the  night  were  passed  by  the  men  in  collecting  such 
valuables  as  they  wished  to  take  with  them.  Every- 
thing seemed  ingeniously  done  to  increase  the  diffi- 
culty of  remaining,  and  to  add  to  the  perils  of  the 
march  by  the  exhaustion  of  the  troops.  The  Meuse 
lay  between  them  and  Labienus,  so  they  had  selected 
to  go  to  Cicero  at  Charleroy.  Their  course  lay  up 
the  left  bank  of  the  little  river  Geer.  Trusting  to 
the  promises  of  Ambiorix,  they  started  in  loose  order, 
followed  by  a  long  train  of  carts  and  wagons.  The 
Eburones  lay,  waiting  for  them,  in  a  large  valley,  two 
miles  from  the  camp.  When  most  of  the  cohorts 
were  entangled  in  the  middle  of  the  hollow,  the 
enemy  appeared  suddenly,  some  in  front,  some  on 
both,  sides  of  the  valley,  some  behind  threatening  the 
baggage.  "Wise  men,  as  Csesar  says,  anticipate  pos- 
sible difficulties,  and  decide  beforehand  what  they 
will  dp  if  occasions  arise.  Sabinus  had  foreseen  noth- 
ing, and  arranged  nothing.  Cotta,  who  had  expected 
what  might  happen,  was  better  prepared,  and  did  the 
best  that  was  possible.  The  men  had  scattered 
among  the  wagons,  each  to  save  or  protect  what  he 
could.  Cotta  ordered  them  back,  bade  them  leave 
the  carts  to  their  fate,  and  form  together  in  a  ring. 
He  did  right,  Csesar  thought ;  but  the  effect  was  un- 
fortunate. The  troops  lost  heart,  and  the  enemy 
was  encouraged,  knowing  that  the  baggage  would 
only  be  abandoned  when  the  position  was  desperate. 
The  Eburones  were  under  good  command.     They  did 

20 


806  Ccesar, 

not,  as  might  have  been  expected,  fly  upon  the  plun- 
der. They  stood  to  their  work,  well  aware  that  the 
carts  would  not  escape  them.  They  were  not  in 
great  numbers.  Caesar  specially  says  that  the  Ro- 
mans were  as  numerous  as  they.  But  everything 
else  was  against  the  Romans.  Sabinus  could  give  no 
directions.  They  were  in  o,  narrow  meadow,  with 
wooded  hills  on  each  side  of  them  filled  with  enemies 
whom  they  could  not  reach.  When  they  charged, 
the  light-footed  barbarians  ran  back ;  when  they  re- 
tired, they  closed  in  upon  them  again,  and  not  a  dart, 
an  arrow,  or  a  stone  missed  its  mark  among  the 
crowded  cohorts.  Bravely  as  the  Romans  fought, 
they  were  in  a  trap  where  their  courage  was  useless 
to  them.  The  battle  lasted  from  dawn  till  the  after- 
noon, and  though  they  were  falling  fast,  there  was 
no  flinching  and  no  cowardice.  Caesar,  who  inquired 
particularly  into  the  minutest  circumstances  of  the 
disaster,  records  by  name  the  officers  who  distin- 
guished themselves  ;  he  mentions  one  whose  courage 
he  had  marked  before,  who  was  struck  down  with  a 
lance  through  his  thighs,  and  another  who  was  killed 
rescuing  his  son.  The  brave  Cotta  was  hit  in'  the 
mouth  by  a  stone  as  he  was  cheering  on  his  men. 
The  end  came  at  last.  Sabinus,  helpless  and  dis- 
tracted, caught  sight  of  Ambiorix  in  the  confusion, 
and  sent  an  interpreter  to  implore  him  to  spare  the 
remainder  of  the  army.  Ambiorix  answered,  that 
Sabinus  might  come  to  him,  if  he  pleased ;  he  hoped 
he  might  persuade  his  tribe  to  be  merciful ;  he  prom- 
ised that  Sabinus  himself  should  suffer  no  injury. 
Sabinus  asked  Cotta  to  accompany  him.  Cotta  said 
he  would  never  surrender  to  an  armed  enemy  ;  and, 
wounded  as  he  was,  he  stayed  with  the  legion.     Sabi- 


Destruction  of  Sahinus.  307 

nus,  followed  by  the  rest  of  the  surviving  officers 
•whom  he  ordered  to  attend  him,  proceeded  to  the 
spot  where  the  chief  was  standing.  They  were  com- 
manded to  lay  down  their  arms.  They  obeyed,  and 
were  immediately  killed ;  and  with  one  wild  yell  the 
barbarians  then  rushed  in  a  mass  on  the  deserted  co- 
horts. Cotta  fell,  and  most  of  the  others  with  him. 
The  survivors,  with  the  eagle  of  the  legion,  which 
they  had  still  faithfully  guarded,  struggled  back  in 
the  dusk  to  their  deserted  camp.  The  standard- 
bearer,  surrounded  by  enemies,  reached  the  fosse, 
flung  the  eagle  over  the  rampart,  and  fell  with  the 
last  effort.  Those  that  were  left  fought  on  till  night, 
and  then,  seeing  that  hope  was  gone,  died  like  Ro- 
mans on  each  other's  swords  —  a  signal  illustration 
of  the  Roman  greatness  of  mind,  which  had  died  out 
among  the  degenerate  patricians,  but  was  living  in  all 
its  force  in  Csesar's  legions.  A  few  stragglers,  who 
had  been  cut  off  during  the  battle  from  their  com- 
rades, escaped  in  the  night  through  the  woods,  and 
carried  the  news  to  Labienus.  Cicero,  at  Charleroy, 
was  left  in  ignorance.  The  roads  were  beset,  and  no 
messenger  could  reach  him. 

Induciomarus  understood  his  countrymen.  The 
conspiracy  with  which  he  had  frightened  Sabinus  had 
not  as  yet  extended  beyond  a  few  northern  chiefs, 
but  the  success  of  Ambiorix  produced  the  effect 
which  he  desired.  As  soon  as  it  was  known  that  two 
Roman  generals  had  been  cut  off,  the  remnants  of  the 
Aduatuci  and  the  Nervii  were  in  arms  for  their  own 
revenge.  The  smaller  tribes  along  the  Meuse  and 
Sambre  rose  with  them  ;  and  Cicero,  taken  by  sur- 
prise, found  himself  surrounded  before  he  had  a 
ihought  of  danger.     The  Gauls,  knowing  that  their 


308  Coesar, 

chances  depended  on  the  capture  ot  tne  second  camp 
before  assistance  could  arrive,  flung  themselves  so 
desperately  on  the  intrenchments  that  the  legionaries 
were  barely  able  to  repel  the  first  assault.  The  as- 
sailants were  driven  back  at  last,  and  Cicero  dis- 
patched messengers  to  Caesar  to  Amiens,  to  give  him 
notice  of  the  rising  ;  but  not  a  man  was  able  to  pene- 
trate through  the  multitude  of  enemies  which  now 
swarmed  in  the  woods.  The  troops  worked  gallantly, 
strengthening  the  weak  points  of  their  fortifications. 
In  one  night  they  raised  a  hundred  and  twenty  tow- 
ers on  their  walls.  Again  the  Gauls  tried  a  storm, 
and,  though  they  failed  a  second  time,  they  left  the 
garrison  no  rest  either  by  day  or  night.  There  was 
no  leisure  for  sleep  ;  not  a  hand  could  be  spared  from 
the  lines  to  care  for  the  sick  or  wounded.  Cicero 
was  in  bad  health,  but  he  clung  to  his  work  till  the 
men  carried  him  by  force  to  his  tent  and  obliged  him 
to  lie  down.  The  first  surprise  not  having  succeeded, 
the  Nervian  chiefs,  who  knew  Cicero,  desired  a  par- 
ley. They  told  the  same  story  which  Ambiorix  had 
told,  that  the  Germans  had  crossed  the  Rhine,  and 
that  all  Gaul  was  in  arms.  They  informed  him  of 
the  destruction  of  Sabinus  ;  they  warned  him  tiiat 
the  same  fate  was  hanging  over  himself,  and  that  his 
only  hope  was  in  surrender.  They  did  not  wish, 
they  said,  to  hurt  either  him  or  the  Roman  people ; 
he  and  his  troops  would  be  free  to  go  where  they 
pleased,  but  they  were  determined  to  prevent  the 
legions  from  quartering  themselves  permanently  iu 
their  country. 

There  was  but  one  Sabinus  in  the  Roman  army. 
Cicero  answered  with  a  spirit  worthy  of  his  country, 
that  Romans  accepted  no  conditions  from  enemies  in 


Quintus  Cicero  besieged,  309 

arms.  The  Gauls  miglit,  if  they  pleased,  send  a  dep- 
utaticiTi  to  Caesar,  and  hear  what  he  would  say  to 
them.  For  himself,  he  had  no  authority  to  listen  to 
them.  Force  and  treachery  being  alike  unavailing, 
they  resolved  to  starve  Cicero  out.  They  had 
watched  the  Roman  strategy.  They  had  seen  and 
felt  the  value  of  the  intrenchments.  They  made  a 
bank  and  ditch  all  round  the  camp,  and,  though  they 
had  no  tools  but  their  swords  with  which  to  dig  turf 
and  cut  trees,  so  m-any  there  were  of  them  that  the 
work  was  completed  in  three  hours.^  Having  thus 
pinned  the  Romans  in,  they  slung  red-hot  balls  and 
flung  'darts  carrying  lighted  straw  over  the  ramparts 
of  the  camp  on  the  thatched  roofs  of .  the  soldiers' 
huts.  The  wind  was  high,  the  fire  spread,  and 
amidst  the  smoke  and  the  blaze  the  Gauls  again 
rushed  on  from  all  sides  to  the  assault.  Roman  disci- 
pline was  never  more  severely  tried,  and  never  showed 
its  excellence  more  signally.  The  houses  and  stores 
of  the  soldiers  were  in  flames  behind  them.  The 
enemy  were  pressing  on  the  walls  in  front,  covered 
by  a  storm  of  javelins  and  stones  and  arrows,  but 
not  a  man  left  his  post  to  save  his  property  or  to  ex- 
tinguish the  fire.  They  fought  as  they  stood,  strik- 
ing down  rank  after  rank  of  the  Gauls,  who  still 
crowded  on,  trampling  on  the  bodies  of  their  com- 
panions, as  the  foremost  lines  fell  dead  into  the  ditch. 
Such  as  reached  the  wall  never  left  it  alive,  for  they 
were  driven  forward  by  the  throng  behind  on  the 
swords  of  the  legionaries.  Thousands  of  them  had 
fallen  before,  in  desperation,  they  drew  back  at  last. 

1  Caesar  saj's  their  trenches  were  fifteen  miles  long.  This  is,  perhaps,  a 
mistake  of  the  transcriber.  A  Roman  camp  did  not  usually  cover  more 
than  a  few  acres. 


310  Ccesar, 

But  Cicero's  situation  was  almost  desperate  too. 
The  huts  were  destroyed.  The  majority  of  the  men 
were  wounded,  and  those  able  to  bear  arms  were  daily 
growing  weaker  in  number.  Caesar  was  120  miiea 
distant,  and  no  word  had  reached  him  of  the  danger. 
Messengers  were  again  sent  off,  but  they  were  caught 
one  after  another,  and  were  tortured  to  death  in  front 
of  the  ramparts,  and  the  boldest  men  shrank  from 
risking  their  lives  on  so  hopeless  an  enterprise.  At 
length  a  Nervian  slave  was  found  to  make  another 
adventure.  He  was  a  Gaul,  and  could  easily  disguise 
himself.  A  letter  to  Caesar  was  inclosed  in  the  shaft 
of  his  javelin.  He  glided  out  of  the  camp  in  the  dark, 
passed  undetected  among  the  enemies  as  one  of  them- 
selves, and,  escaping  from  their  lines,  made  his  way 
to  Amiens. 

Swiftness  of  movement  was  Caesar's  distinguishing 
excellence.  The  legions  were  kept  ready  to  march  at 
an  hour's  notice.  He  sent  an  order  to  Crassus  to  join 
l^im  instantly  from  Montdidier.  He  sent  to  Fabius 
at  St.  Pol  to  meet  him  at  Arras.  He  wrote  to  Labi- 
enus,  telling  him  the  situation,  and  leaving  him  to 
his  discretion  to  advance  or  to  remain  on  his  guard  at 
Lavacherie,  as  might  seem  most  prudent.  Not  caring 
to  wait  for  the  rest  of  his  army,  and  leaving  Crassus 
to  take  care  of  Amiens,  he  started  himself,  the  morn- 
ing after  the  information  reached  him,  with  Treboni- 
us's  legion  to  Cicero's  relief.  Fabius  joined  him,  as  he 
had  been  directed,  at  Arras.  He  had  hoped  for  La- 
bienus's  presence  also ;  but  Labienus  sent  to  say  that 
he  was  surrounded  by  the  Treveri,  and  dared  not  stir. 
Caesar  approved  his  hesitation,  and  with  but  two  le- 
gions, amounting  in  all  to  only  7,000  men,  he  hurried 
forward  to  the  Nervian  border.    Learning  that  Cicero 


Relief  of  Cicero,  311 

was  still  holding  out,  he  wrote  a  letter  to  him  in 
Greek,  that  it  might  be  unintelligible  if  intercepted, 
to  tell  him  that  help  was  near.  A  Gaul  carried  the 
letter,  and  fastened  it  by  a  line  to  his  javelin,  which 
he  flung  over  Cicero's  rampart.  The  javelin  stuck  in 
the  side  of  one  of  the  towers,  and  was  unobserved  for 
several  days.  The  besiegers  were  better  informed. 
They  learnt  that  Caesar  was  at  hand,  that  he  had  but 
a  handful  of  men  with  him.  By  that  time  their  own 
numbers  had  risen  to  60,000,  and,  leaving  Cicero  to  be 
dealt  with  at  leisure,  they  moved  off  to  envelope  and 
destroy  their  great  enemy.  Caesar  was  well  served 
by  spies.  He  knew  that  Cicero  was  no  longer  in  "  m- 
mediate  danger,  and  there  was  thus  no  occasion  for 
him  to  risk  a  battle  at  a  disadvantage  to  relieve  Lim. 
When  he  found  the  Gauls  near  him,  he  Encamped, 
drawing  his  lines  as  narrowly  as  he  could,  that  from 
the  small  show  which  he  made  they  might  imagine 
his  troops  to  be  even  fewer  than  they  were.  He  in- 
vited attack  by  an  ostentation  of  timidity,  and  having 
tempted  the  Gauls  to  become  the  assailants,  he  flung 
open  his  gates,  rushed  out  upon  them  with  his  whole 
force,  and  all  but  annihilated  them.  The  patriot 
army  was  broken  to  pieces,  and  the  unfortunate  Ner- 
vii  and  Aduatuci  never  rallied  from  this  second  blow. 
Caesar  could  then  go  at  his  leisure  to  Cicero  and  his 
comrades,  who  had  fought  so  nobly  against  such  des- 
perate odds.  In  every  ten  men  he  found  that  there 
was  but  one  unwounded.  He  inquired  with  minute 
curiosity  into  every  detail  of  the  siege.  In  a  general 
address  he  thanked  Cicero  and  the  whole  legion.  He 
thanked  the  officers  man  by  man  for  their  gallantry 
and  fidelity.  Now  for  the  first  time  (and  that  he 
could  have  remained  ignorant  of  it  so  long  speaks  for 


312  Cmar, 

the  passionate  unanimity  with  which  the  Gauls  had 
risen)  he  learnt  from  prisoners  the  fate  of  Sabinus. 
He  did  not  underrate  the  greatness  of  the  catastrophe. 
The  soldiers  in  the  army  he  trusted  alwa^^s  as  friends 
and  comrades  in  arms,  and  the  loss  of  so  many  of 
them  was  as  personally  grievous  to  him  as  the  effects 
of  it  might  be  politically  mischievous.  He  made  it 
the  subject  of  a  second  speech  to  his  own  and  to  Cic- 
ero's troops,  but  he  spoke  to  encourage  and  to  console. 
A  serious  misfortune  had  happened,  he  said,  through 
the  fault  of  one  of  his  generals,  but  it  must  be  borne 
with  equanimity,  and  had  already  been  heroically  ex- 
piated. The  meeting  with  Cicero  must  have  been  an 
interesting  one.  He  and  the  two  Ciceros  had  been 
friends  and  companions  in  youth.  It  would  have 
been  well  if  Marcus  Tullius  could  have  remembered 
in  the  coming  years  the  personal  exertion  with  which 
Caesar  had  rescued  a  brother  to  whom  he  was  so 
warmly  attached. 

Communications  among  the  Gauls  were  feverishly 
rapid.  While  the  Nervii  were  attacking  Cicero,  In- 
duciomarus  and  the  Treveri  had  surrounded  Labienus 
at  Lavacherie.  Cassar  had  entered  Cicero's  camp  at 
three  o'clock  in  the  afternoon.  The  news  reached 
Induciomarus  before  midnight,  and  he  had  disap- 
peared by  the  morning.  Caesar  returned  to  Amiens, 
but  the  whole  country  was  now  in  a  state  of  excite- 
ment. He  had  intended  to  go  to  Italy,  but  he  aban- 
doned all  thoughts  of  departure.  Rumors  came  of 
messengers  hurrying  to  and  fro,  of  meetings  at  night 
in  lonely  places,  of  confederacies  among  the  patriots. 
Even  Brittany  was  growing  uneasy;  a  force  had  been 
collected  to  attack  Roscius,  though  it  had  dispersed 
ttfter  the  relief   of  Cicero.     Caesar  again  summoned 


Lahienus  attached,  313 

the  chiefs  to  come  to  him,  and  between  threats  and 
encouragements  succeeded  in  preventing  a  general  ris- 
ing. But  the  tribes  on  the  upper  Seine  broke  into 
disturbance.  The  jiEdui  and  the  Renii  alone  re- 
mained really  loyal ;  and  it  was  evident  that  only  a 
leader  was  wanted  to  raise  the  whole  of  Gaul.  Cce- 
Bar  himself  admitted  that  nothing  could  be  more  nat- 
ural. The  more  high-spirited  of  the  Gauls  were  mis- 
erable to  see  that  their  countrymen  had  so  lost  conceit 
of  themselves  as  to  submit  willingly  to  the  Roman 
rule. 

Induciomarus  was  busy  all  the  winter,  soliciting 
help  from  the  Germans,  and  promising  money  and 
lands.  The  Germans  had  had  enough  of  fighting  the 
Romans,  and,  as  long  as  their  own  independence  was 
not  threatened,  were  disinclined  to  move ;  but  Indu- 
ciomarus, nothing  daunted,  gathered  volunteers  on  all 
sides.  His  camp  became  a  rallying  point  for  disaffec- 
tion. Envoys  came  privately  to  him  from  distant 
tribes.  He,  too,  held  his  rival  council,  and  a  fresh 
attack  on  the  camp  of  Labienus  was  to  be  the  first 
step  in  a  general  war.  Labienus,  well  informed  of 
what  was  going  on,  watched  him  quietly  from  his  in- 
trenchments.  When  the  Gauls  approached,  he  af- 
fected fear,  as  Caesar  had  done,  and  he  secretly  formed 
a  body  of  cavalry,  of  whose  existence  they  had  no 
suspicion.  Induciomarus  became  careless.  T>'^y  after 
day  he  rode  round  the  intrenchments,  insulting  the 
Romans  as  cowards,  and  his  men  flinging  their  jave- 
lins over  the  walls.  Labienus  remained  passive,  till 
one  evening,  when,  after  one  of  these  displays,  the 
loose  bands  of  the  Gauls  had  scattered,  he  sent  his 
horse  out  suddenly  with  orders  to  fight  neither  with 
s^mall  nor  great,  save  with  Induciomarus  only,  and 


314  Coesar. 

promising  a  reward  for  his  head.  Fortune  favored 
him.  Indiiciomarus  was  overtaken  and  killed  in  a 
ford  of  the  Ourthe,  and  for  the  moment  the  agitation 
was  cooled  down.  But  the  impression  which  had 
been  excited  by  the  destruction  of  Sabinus  was  still 
telling  through  the  country.  Cabsar  expected  fresh 
trouble  in  the  coming  summer,  and  spent  the  rest  of 
the  winter  and  spring  in  preparing  for  a  new  strug- 
gle. Future  peace  depended  on  convincing  the  Gaula 
of  the  inexhaustible  resources  of  Italy;  on  showing 
them  that  any  loss  which  might  be  inflicted  could  be 
immediately  repaired,  and  that  the  army  could  and 
would  be  maintained  in  whatever  strength  might  be 
necessary  to  coerce  them.  He  raised  two  fresh  le- 
gions in  his  own  province.  Pompey  had  formed  a 
legion  in  the  north  of  Italy,  within  Csesar's  bounda- 
ries, for  service  in  Spain.  Caesar  requested  Pompey 
to  lend  him  this  legion  for  immediate  purposes ;  and 
Pompey,  who  was  still  on  good  terms  with  Csesar, 
recognized  the  importance  of  the  occasion,  and  con- 
sented without  difficulty. 

Thus  amply  reinforced,  Caesar,  before  the  grass  had 
begun  to  grow,  took  the  field  against  the  tribes  which 
were  openly  disaffected.  The  first  business  was  to 
punish  the  Belgians,  who  had  attacked  Cicero.  He 
fell  suddenly  on  the  Nervii  with  four  legions,  seized 
their  cattle,  wasted  their  country,  and  carried  off 
thousands  of  them  to  be  sold  into  slavery.  Return- 
ing to  Amiens,  he  again  called  the  chiefs  about  him, 
and,  the  Seine  tribes  refusing  to  put  in  an  appearance, 
he  transferred  the  council  to  Paris,  and,  advancing 
by  rapid  marches,  he  brought  the  Senones  and  Car- 
nutes  to  pray  for  pardon.^     He  then  turned  on  the 

1  People  about  Sens,  Melun,  and  Chartres. 


Second  Conquest  of  the  Belgoe.  315 

Treveri  and  their  allies,  who,  under  Ambiorix,  had 
destroyed  Sabinus.  Leaving  Labienus  with  the  addi- 
tional legions  to  check  the  Treveri,  he  went  himself 
into  Flanders,  where  Ambiorix  was  hiding  ajnong  the 
rivers  and  marshes.  He  threw  bridges  over  the  dykes, 
burnt  the  villages,  and  carried  off  an  enormous  spoil, 
of  cattle  and,  alas  !  of  men.  To  favor  and  enrich  the 
tribes  that  submitted  after  a  first  defeat,  to  depopu- 
late the  determinately  rebellious  by  seizing  and  sell- 
ing as  slaves  those  who  had  forfeited  a  right  to  his 
protection,  was  his  uniform  and,  as  the  event  proved, 
entirely  successful  policy.  The  persuasions  of  the 
Treveri  had  failed  with  the  nearer  German  tribes ; 
but  some  of  the  Suevi,  who  had  never  seen  the  Ro- 
mans, were  tempted  to  adventure  over  and  try  their 
fortunes  ;  and  the  Treveri  were  waiting  for  them,  to 
set  on  Labienus,  in  Caesar's  absence.  Labienus  went 
in  search  of  the  Treveri,  tempted  them  into 
an  engagement  by  a  feigned  flight,  killed 
many  of  them,  and  filled  his  camp  with  prisoners. 
Their  German  allies  i:etreated  again  across  the  river, 
and  the  patriot  chiefs,  who  had  gone  with  Inducio- 
marus,  concealed  themselves  in  the  forests  of  West- 
phalia. Caesar  thought  it  desirable  to  renew  the  ad- 
monition which  he  had  given  the  Germans  two  years 
before,  and  again  threw  a  bridge  over  the  Rhine  at  the 
same  place  where  he  had  made  the  first,  but  a  little 
higher  up  the  stream.  Experience  made  the  construc- 
tion ,  more  easy.  The  bridge  was  begun  and  finished 
in  a  few  days,  but  this  time  the  labor  was  thrown  away. 
The  operation  itself  lost  its  impressiveness  by  repeti- 
tion, and  the  barrenness  of  practical  results  was  more 
rvident  than  before.  The  Sueves,  who  had  gone  home, 
vere  far  away  in  the  interior.     To  lead  the  heavily 


816  Ccesar, 

armed  legions  in  pursuit  of  wild  light-footed  maiau 
ders,  who  had  not  a  town  which  could  be  burned,  or  a 
field  of  corn  which  could  be  cut  for  food,  was  to  wastt 
their  strength  to  no  purpose,  and  to  prove  still  more 
plainly  that  in  their  own  forests  they  were  beyond  the 
reach  of  vengeance.  Caesar  drew  back  again,  after  a 
brief  visit  to  his  allies  the  Ubii,  cut  two  hundred  feet 
of  the  bridge  on  the  German  side,  and  leaving  the  rest 
standing  with  a  guard  to  defend  it,  he  went  in  search 
of  Ambiorix,  who  had  as  yet  eluded  him,  in  the  Ar- 
dennes. Ambiorix  had  added  treachery  to  insurrec- 
tion, and  as  long  as  he  was  free  and  unpunished  the 
massacred  legion  had  not  been  fully  avenged.  Csesar 
was  particularly  anxious  to  catch  him,  and  once  had 
found  the  nest  warm  which  Ambiorix  had  left  but  a 
few  moments  before. 

In  the  pursuit  he  came  again  to  Tongres,  to  the 
fatal  camp  which  Sabinus  had  deserted  and  in  which 
the  last  of  the  legionaries  had  killed  each  other,  rather 
than  degrade  the  Roman  name  by  allowing  themselves 
to  be  captured.  The  spot  was  fated,  and  narrowly 
escaped  being  the  scene  of  a  second  catastrophe  as 
frightful  as  the  first.  The  intrenchments  were  stand- 
ing as  they  were  left,  ready  to  be  occupied.  Caesar, 
finding  himself  incumbered  by  his  heavy  baggage  in 
the  pursuit  of  Ambiorix,  decided  to  leave  it  there  with 
Quintus  Cicero  and  the  14th  legion.  He  was  going 
himself  to  scour  Brabant  and  East  Flanders  as  far  as 
the  Scheldt.  In  seven  days  he  promised  to  return, 
and  meanwhile  he  gave  Cicero  strict  directions  to 
keep  the  legion  within  the  lines,  and  not  to  allow  any 
of  the  men  to  stray.  It  happened  that  after  Caisar 
recrossed  the  Rhine  two  thousand  German  horse  had 
followed  iii  bravado,  and  were  then  plundering  be- 


Cicero  again  in  Danger.  317 

tween  Tongres  and  the  river.  Hearing  that  there 
was  a  rich  booty  in  the  camp,  that  Csesar  was  away, 
and  only  a  small  party  had  been  left  to  guard  it,  they 
decided  to  try  to  take  the  place  by  a  sudden  stroke. 
Cicero,  seeing  no  sign  of  an  enemy,  had  permitted 
his  men  to  disperse  in  foraging  parties.  The  Ger- 
mans were  on  them  before  they  could  recover  their 
mtrenchments,  and  they  had  to  form  at  a  distance 
and  defend  themselves  as  they  could.  The  gates  of 
the  camp  were  open,  and  the  enemy  were  actually 
inside  before  the  few  maniples  who  were  left  there 
were  able  to  collect  and  resist  them.  Fortunately 
Sextius  Baculus,  the  same  officer  who  had  so  brill- 
iantly distinguished  himself  in  the  battle  with  the 
Nervii,  and  had  since  been  badly  wounded,  was  lying 
sick  in  his  tent,  where  he  had  been  for  five  days,  un- 
able to  touch  food.  Hearing  the  disturbance,  Bacu- 
lus sprang  out,  snatched  a  sword,  rallied  such  men  as 
he  could  find,  and  checked  the  attack  for  a  few  min- 
utes. Other  officers  rushed  to  his  help,  and  the  le- 
gionaries having  their  centurions  with  them  recovered 
their  steadiness.  Sextius  Baculus  was  again  severely 
hurt,  and  fainted,  but  he  was  carried  off  in  safety. 
Some  of  the  cohorts  who  were  outside,  and  had  been 
for  a  time  cut  off,  made  their  way  into  the  camp  to 
join  the  defenders,  and  the  Germans  who  had  come 
without  any  fixed  purpose,  merely  for  plunder,  gave 
way  and  galloped  off  again.  They  left  the  Romans, 
however,  still  in  the  utmost  consternation.  The  scene 
and  the  associations  of  it  suggested  the  most  gloomy 
anticipations.  They  thought  that  German  cavalry 
could  never  be  so  far  from  the  Rhine,  unless  their 
countrymen  were  invading  in  force  behind  them. 
Caesar,  it  was  supposed,  must  have  been  surprised 


818  Ccesar. 

and  destroyed,  and  they  and  every  Roman  in  Gaul 
would  soon  share  the  same  fate*.  Brave  as  they  were, 
the  Roman  soldiers  seem  to  have  been- curiously  lia- 
ble to  panics  of  this  kind.  The  faith  with  which  they 
relied  upon  their  general  avenged  itself  through  the 
com])leteness  with  which  they  were  accustomed  to 
depend  upon  him.  He  returned  on  the  day  which 
he  had  fixed,  and  not  unnaturally  was  displeased  at 
the  disregard  of  his  orders.  He  did  not,  or  does  not 
in  his  Commentaries,  professedly  blame  Cicero.  But 
the  Ciceros  perhaps  resented  the  loss  of  confidence 
which  one  of  them  had  brought  upon  himself.  Quin- 
tus  Cicero  cooled  in  his  zeal,  and  afterwards  amused 
the  leisure  of  his  winter  quarters  with  composing 
worthless  dramas. 

Ambiorix  had  again  escaped,  and  was  never  taken. 
The  punishment  fell  on  his  tribe.  The  Eburones 
were  completely  rooted  out.  The  turn  of  the  Car- 
nutes  and  Senones  came  next.  The  people  them- 
selves were  spared ;  but  their  leader,  a  chief  named 
Acco,  who  was  found  to  have  instigated  the  revolt, 
was  arrested  and  executed.  Again  the  whole  of  Gaul 
settled  into  seeming  quiet ;  and  Caesar  went  to  Italy, 
where  the  political  frenzy  was  now  boiling  over. 


CHAPTER    XVIII. 

The  conference  at  Lucca  and  the  Senate's  indif- 
ference had  determined  Cicero  to  throw  in 

1  .       1  -11  .  TT       1       1  B    0.  56. 

bis  lot  with  the  trimmers.  He  had  remon- 
strated with  Pompey  on  the  imprudence  of  prolong- 
ing Caesar's  command.  Pompey,  he  thought,  would 
find  out  in  time  that  he  had  made  Csesar  too  strong 
for  him ;  but  Pompey  had  refused  to  listen,  and 
Cicero  had  concluded  that  he  must  consider  his  own 
interests.  His  brother  Quintus  joined  the  army  in 
Gaul  to  take  part  in  the  invasion  of  Britain,  and  to 
share  the  dangers  and  the  honors  of  the  winter  which 
followed  it.  Cicero  himself  began  a  warm  corre- 
spondence with  Caesar,  and  through  Quintus  sent  con- 
tinued messages  to  him.  Literature-  was  a  neutral 
ground  on  which  he  could  approach  his  political 
enemy  without  too  open  discredit,  and  he  courted 
eagerly  the  approval  of  a  critic  whose  literary  genius 
he  esteemed  as  highly  as  his  own.  Men  of  genuine 
ability  are  rarely  vain  of  what  they  can  do  really 
well.  Cicero  admired  himself  as  a  statesman  with 
the  most  unbounded  enthusiasm.  He  was  proud  of 
his  verses,  which  were  hopelessly  commonplace.  In 
the  art  in  which  he  was  without  a  rival  he  was 
modest  and  diffident.  He  sent  his  various  writings 
for  Caesar's  judgment.  "  Like  the  traveller  who  has 
overslept  himself,"  he  said,  "yet  by  extraordinary 
exertions  reaches  his  goal  sooner  than  if  he  ha4  been 
earlier   on   the  road,  I  will  follow  your  advice  and 


820  Vcesar, 

court  this  man.  I  have  been  asleep  too  long.  I  will 
correct  my  slowness  with  my  speed ;  and  as  you  say 
he  approves  my  verses,  I  shall  travel  not  with  a  com- 
mon carriage,  but  with  a  four-in-hand  of  poetry."  ^ 

"  What  does  Csesar  say  of  my  poems  ?  "  he  wrote 
again.  "  He  tells  me  in  one  of  his  letters  that  he  has 
never  read  better  Greek.  At  one  place  he  writes 
paOv}X(oT€pa  (somewhat  careless).  That  is  his  word. 
Tell  me  the  truth.  Was  it  the  matter  which  did  not 
please  him,  or  the  style  ?  "  "  Do  not  be  afraid,"  he 
added  with  candid  simplicity  ;  "  I  shall  not  think  a 
hair  the  worse  of  myself."  ^ 

His  affairs  were  still  in  disorder.  Caesar  had  now 
large  sums  at  his  disposition.  Cicero  gave  the  high- 
est proof  of  the  sincerity  of  his  conversion  by  accept- 
ing money  from  him.  " "  You  say,"  he  observed  in 
another  letter,  "  that  Caesar  shows  every  day  more 
marks  of  his  affection  for  you.  It  gives  me  infinite 
pleasure.  I  can  have  no  second  thoughts  in  Caesar's 
affairs.  I  act  on  conviction,  and  am  doing  but  my 
duty  ;  but  I  am  inflamed  with  love  for  him."^ 

With  Pompey  and  Crassus  Cicero  seemed  equally 
familiar.  When  their  consulship  was  over,  their  prov- 
inces were  assigned  as  had  been  determined.  Pom- 
pey had  Spain,  with  six  legions.  He  remained  him- 
self at  Rome,  sending  lieutenants  in  charge  of  them. 
Crassus  aspired  to  equal  the  glory  of  his  colleagues 
in  the  open  field.  He  had  gained  some  success  in 
the  war  with  the  slaves  which  persuaded  him  that  he 
too  could  be  a  conqueror ;  and  knowing  as  much  of 

1  Ad  Quintum  Fratrem,  ii.  15. 

2  "Ego  enim  ne  pilo  quidem  minus  me  araabo."  —  Ibid.  ii.  16.     Other 
editions  read  "te." 

*  "Videor  id  judicio  facere  :  jam  enim  debeo:  sed  amore  sum  ipceQ« 
•BUI."  —  Ibid.  in.  1. 


Cicero^s  Apology/.  821 

foreign  campaigning  as  the  clerks  in  his  factories,  he 
intended  to  use  Syria  as  a  base  of  operations  against 
the  Parthiaiis,  and  to  extend  the  frontier  to  the  In- 
dus. The  Senate  had  murmured,  but  Cicero  had 
passionately  defended  Crassus  ;  ^  and  as  if  to  show 
publicly  how  entirely  he  had  now  devoted  himself  to 
the  cause  of  the  -"  Dynasts,"  he  invited  Crassus  to 
dine  with  him  the  day  before  his  departure  for  the 
East. 

The  position  was  not  wholly  pleasant  to  Cicero. 
"  Self-respect  in  speech,  liberty  in  choosing  the  course 
which  we  will  pursue,  is  all  gone,"  he  wrote  to  Len- 
tulus  Spinther  — "  gone  not  more  from  me  than 
from  us  all.  We  must  assent,  as  a  matter  of  course, 
to  what  a  few  men  say,  or  we  must  differ  from  them 
to  no  purpose.  —  The  relations  of  the  Senate,  of  the 
courts  of  justice,  nay,  of  the  whole  commonwealth, 
are  changed.  —  The  consular  dignity  of  a  firm  and 
courageous  statesman  can  no  longer  be  thought  of. 
It  has  been  lost  by  the  folly  of  those  who  estranged 
from  the  Senate  the  compact  order  of  the  Equites 
und  a  very  distinguished  man  (Caesar)."  ^  And 
again :  "  We  must  go  with  the  times.  Those  who 
have  played  a  great  part  in  public  life  bave  never 
been  able  to  adhere  to  the  same  views  on  all  occa- 
sions. The  art  of  navigation  lies  in  trimming  to  the 
storm.  When  you  can  reach  your  harbor  by  alter- 
ing your  course,  it  is  a  folly  to  persevere  in  struggling 
against  the  wind.  Were  I  entirely  free  I  should  still 
act  as  I  am  doing ;  and  when  I  am  invited  to  ray- 
present  attitude  by  the  kindness  of  one  set  of  men, 
and  am  driven  to  it  by  the  injurious  conduct  of  the 

1  Ad  Crassum.    Ad  Familiares,  v.  8. 

2  Ad  Lentulum.    Ad  Fam.  i.  8. 

91 


822  Cmar. 

other,  I  am  content  to  do  wbat  I  conceive  will  con- 
duce at  once  to  my  own  advantage  and  the  welfare 
of  the  State.  —  Caesar's  influence  is  enormous.  His 
wealth  is  vast.  I  have  the  use  of  both,  as  if  they 
"were  my  own.  Nor  could  I  have  crushed  the  con- 
spiracy of  a  set  of  villains  to  ruin  me,  unless,  in  ad- 
dition to  the  defences  which  I  always  possessed,  I  had 
secured  the  good-will  of  the  men  in  power."  ^ 

Cicero's  conscience  could  not  have  been  easy  when 

he  was  driven  to  such  laborious  apologies. 

He  spoke  often  of  intendhig  to  withdraw 
into  his  family,  and  devoting  his  time  entirely  to  lit- 
erature ;  but  he  could  not  bring  himself  to  leave  the 
political  ferment ;  and  he  was  possessed  besides  with 
a  passionate  desire  to  revenge  himself  on  those  who 
had  injured  him.  An  opportunity  seemed  to  present 
itself.  The  persons  whom  he  hated  most,  after 
Clodius,  were  the  two  consuls  Gabinius  and  Piso,  who 
had  permitted  his  exile.  They  had  both  conducted 
themselves  abominably  in  the  provinces,  which  they 
had  bought,  he  said,  at  the  price  of  his  blood.  Piso 
had  been  sent  to  Macedonia,  where  he  had  allowed 
his  army  to  perish  by  disease  and  neglect.  The  fron- 
tiers had  been  overrun  with  brigands,  and  the  out- 
cries of  his  subjects  had  been  audible  even  in  Rome 
against  his  tyranny  and  incapacity.  Gabinius,  in 
Syria,  had  been  more  ambitiSus,  and  had  exposed 
himself  to  an  indignation  more  violent  because  more 
interested.  At  a  hint  from  Pompey,  he  had  restored 
Ptolemy  to  Egypt  on  his  own  authority  and  without 
waiting  for  the  Senate's  sanction,  and  he  had  snatched 
for  himself  the  prize  for  which  the  chiefs  of  the 
Senate  had  been  contending.     He  had  broken   the 

,    1  Ad  Lentulum.    Ad  Fam.  i.  9. 


Prosecution  of  Gahinius.  323 

law  by  leading  his  legions  over  the  frontier.  He  had 
defeated  the  feeble  Alexandrians,  and  the  gratified 
Ptolemy  had  rewarded  him  with  the  prodigious  sum 
of  ten  thousand  talents  —  a  million  and  a  half  of 
English  money.  While  he  thus  enriched  himself  he 
had  iriitated  the  knights,  who  might  otherwise  tia\e 
supported  him,  by  quarrelling  with  the  Syrian  revenue 
farmers,  and,  according  to  popular  scandal,  he  had 
plundered  the  province  worse  than  it  had  been 
plundered  even  by  tlie  pirates. 

When  so  fair  a  chance  was  thrown  in  his  way, 
Cicero  would  have  been  more  than  human  if  he  had 
not  availed  himself  of  it.  He  moved  in  the  Senate 
for  the  recall  of  the  two  offenders,  and  in  the  finest 
of  his  speeches  he  laid  bare  their  reputed  iniquities. 
His  position  was  a  delicate  one  —  because  the  sena- 
torial party,  could  they  have  had  their  way,  would 
have  recalled  CsBsar  also.  Gabinius  was  Pompey's 
favorite,  and  Piso  was  Caesar's  father-in-law.  Cicero 
had  no  intention  of  quarrelling  with  CiBsar ;  between 
his  invectives,  therefore,  he  was  careful  to  interweave 
the  most  elaborate  compliments  to  the  conqueror  of 
Gaul.  He  dwelt  with  extraordinary  clearness  on  the 
value  of  Caesar's  achievements.  The  conquest  of  Gaul, 
he  said,  was  not  the  annexation  of  a  province.  It 
was  the  dispersion  of  a  cloud  which  had  threatened 
Italy  from  the  days  of  Brennus.  To  recall  Caesar 
would  be  madness.  He  wished  to  remain,  only  to 
complete  his  work  ;  the  more  honor  to  him  that  he 
was  willing  to  let  the  laurels  fade  which  were  wait- 
ing for  him  at  Rome,  before  he  returned  to  wear 
:hem.  There  were  persons  who  would  bring  liim 
back,  because  they  did  not  love  him.  They  would 
bring  him  back  only  to  enjoy  a  triumph.     Gaul  had 


824  Goemr, 

been  the  single  danger  to  the  Empire.  Nature  had 
fortified  Italy  by  the  Alps.  The  mountain  barrier 
alone  had  allowed  Rome  to  grow  to  its  present  great- 
ness, but  the  Alps  might  now  sink  into  the  earth. 
Italy  had  no  more  to  fear.^ 

The  orator  perhaps  hoped  that  so  splendid  a  vindi- 
cation of  Csesar  in  the  raidst  of  his  worst  enemies 
might  have  purchased  pardon  for  his  onslaught  on 
the  baser  members  of  the  "  Dynastic  "  faction.  He 
found  himself  mistaken.  His  eagerness  to  revenge 
his  personal  wrongs  compelled  him  to  drink  the  bit- 
terest cup  of  humiliation  which  had  yet  been  offered 
to  him.  He  gained  his  immediate  purpose.  The  two 
governors  were  recalled  in  disgrace,  and  Gabinius 
was  impeached  under  the  new  Julian  law  for  having 
restored  Ptolemy  without  orders,  and  for  the  corrupt 
administration  of  his  province.  Cicero  would  natu- 
rally have  conducted  the  prosecution ;  but  pressure 
of  some  kind  was  laid  on,  which  compelled  him  to 
stand  aside.  The  result  of  the  trial  on  the  first  of 
the  two  indictments  was  another  of  those  mockeries 
of  justice  which  made  the  Roman  law  courts  the  jest 
of  mankind.  Pompey  threw  his  shield  over  his  in- 
strument. He  used  his  influence  freely.  The  Egyp- 
tian spoils  furnished  a  fund  to  corrupt  the  judges. 
The  speech  for  the  prosecution  was  so  weak  as  to  in- 
vite a  failure,  and  Gabinius  was  acquitted  by  a  major- 
ity of  purchased  votes.  "  You  ask  me  how  I  endure 
Buch  things,"  Cicero  bitterly  wrote,  in  telling  the 
Btory  to  Atticus ;  "  well  enough,  by  Hercules,  and  I 
am  entirely  pleased  with  myself.  We  have  lost,  my 
friend,  not  only  the  juice  and  blood,  but  even  the 
color  and  shape,  of  a  Commonwealth.      No  decent 

1  De  Provmcm  Consularibus. 


Acquittal  of  Gahinius,  825 

constitution  exists,  in  which  I  can  take  a  part.  How 
can  you  put  up  with  such  a  state  of  things  ?  you  will 
say.  Excellently  well.  I  recollect  how  public  affairs 
went  a  while  ago,  when  I  was  myself  in  office,  and 
how  grateful  people  were  to  me.  I  am  not  distressed 
now,  that  the  power  is  with  a  single  man.  Those  are 
miserable  who  could  not  bear  to  see  me  successful.  I 
find  much  to  console  me."  ^  "  Gabinius  is  acquitted," 
he  wrote  to  his  brother.  —  '*  The  verdict  is  so  infa- 
mous that  it  is  thought  he  will  be  convicted  on  the 
other  charge ;  but,  as  you  perceive,  the  constitution, 
the  Senate,  the  courts,  are  all  nought.  There  is  no 
honor  in  any  one  of  us.  —  Some  persons,  Sallust  among 
them,  say  that  I  ought  to  have  prosecuted  him.  I  to 
risk  my  credit  with  such  a  jury  !  what  if  I  had  acted, 
and  he  had  escaped  then !  but  other  motives  influ- 
enced me.  Pompey  would  have  made  a  personal 
quarrel  of  it  with  me.  He  would  have  come  into 
the  city .2  —  He  would  have  taken  up  with  Clodius 
again.  I  know  that  I  was  wise,  and  I  hope  that  you 
agree  with  me.  I  owe  Pompey  nothing,  and  he  owes 
much  to  me ;  but  in  public  matters  (not  to  put  it 
more  strongly)  he  has  not  allowed  me  to  oppose  him ; 
and  when  I  was  flourishing  and  he  was  less  powerful 
than  he  is  now,  he  let  me  see  what  he  could  do.  Now 
when  I  am  not  even  ambitious  of  power,  and  the  con- 
stitution is  broken  down,  and  Pompey  is  omnipotent, 
why  should  I  contend  with  him  ?  Then,  says  Sallust, 
I  ought  to  have  pleased  Pompey  by  defending  Gabin- 
ius, as  he  was  anxious  that  I  should.  A  nice  friend 
Sallust,  who  would  have  me  push  myself  into  danger- 
ous quarrels,  or  cover  myself  with  eternal  infamy!  "^ 

1  To  Atticus,  iv.  16. 

2  Pompey,  as  proconsul  with  a  province,  was  residing  outside  tlie  walU. 
•  Ad  Quintum  Fratrem,  iii,  4. 


826  Cmar. 

Unhappy  Cicero,  wishing  to  act  honorably,  but 
without  manliness  to  face  the  consequences!  He 
knew  that  it  would  be  infamous  for  him  to  defend 
Gabinius,  yet  at  the  second  trial  Cicero,  who  had  led 
the  attack  on  him  in  the  Senate,  and  had  heaped  in- 
vectives on  him,  the  most  bitter  which  he  ever  uttered 
against  man,  nevertheless  actually  did  defend  Gabin- 
Ais.  Perhaps  he  consoled  himself  with  the  certainty 
that  his  eloquence  would  be  in  vain,  and  that  his  ex- 
traordinary client  this  time  could  not  escape  convic- 
tion. Any  way,  he  appeared  at  the  bar  as  Gabinius's 
counsel.  The  Syrian  revenue  farmers  were  present, 
open-mouthed  with  their  accusations.  Gabinius  waa 
condemned,  stripped  of  his  spoils,  and  sent  into  ban- 
ishment. Cicero  was  left  with  his  shame.  Nor  was 
this  the  worst.  There  were  still  some  dregs  in  the 
cup,  which  he  was  forced  to  drain.  Publius  Vatinius 
was  a  prominent  leader  of  the  military  democratic 
party,  and  had  often  come  in  collision  w^itli  Cicero, 
He  had  been  tribune  when  Caesar  was  consul,  and  had 
stood  by  him  against  the  Senate  and  Bibulus.  He 
had  served  in  Gaul  in  Caesar's  first  campaigns,  and 
had  returned  to  Rome,  at.Cgesar's  instance,  to  enter 
for  higher  office.  He  had  carried  the  prastorship 
against  Cato ;  and  Cicero  in  one  of  his  speeches  had 
painted  him  as  another  Clodius  or  Catiline.  When 
the  praetorship  was  expired,  he  was  prosecuted  for  cor- 
ruption ;  and  Cicero  was  once  more  compelled  to  ap- 
pear on  the  other  side,  and  defend  him,  as  he  had 
done  Gabinius.  Caesar  and  Pompey,  wishing,  per- 
haps, to  break,  completely  into  harness  the  brilliant 
but  still  half  unmanageable  orator,  liad  so  ordered, 
and  Cicero  had  complied.  He  was  ashamed,  but  he 
had  still  his  points  of  satisfaction.     It  was  a  matter 


Cicero  dissatisfied  ivith  his  Position,         327 

of  course  that,  as  an  advocate,  he  must  praise  the  man 
whom,  a  year  before,  he  had  spattered  with  ignominy  ; 
but  he  had  the  pleasure  of  feeling  that  he  was  reveng- 
ing himself  on  his  conservative  allies,  who  led  the 
prosecution.  "  Why  I  praised  Vatinias,"  he  wrote 
to  Lentulus,  "I  must  beg  you  not  to  ask  either  in  the 
case  of  this  or  of  any  other  criminal.  I  put  it  to  the 
judges,  that  since  certain  noble  lords,  my  good  friends, 
were  too  fond  of  my  adversary  (Clodius),  and  in  the 
Senate  would  go  apart  with  him  under  my  own  eyes, 
and  would  treat  him  with  warmest  affection,  they 
must  allow  me  to  have  my  Publius  (Vatinius),  since 
they  had  theirs  (Clodius),  and  give  them  a  gentle 
stab  in  return  for  their  cuts  at  me."  ^  Vatinius  was  ac- 
quitted. Cicero  was  very  miserable.  *'  Gods  and  men 
approved,"  lie  said ;  but  his  own  conscience  condemned 
him,  and  at  this  time  his  one  consolation,  real  or  pre- 
tended, was  the  friendship  of  Caesar.  "  Caesar's  affec- 
tionate letters,"  he  told  his  brother,  "  are  my  only 
pleasure ;  I  attach  little  consequence  to  his  promises ; 
I  do  not  thirst  for  honors,  or  regret  my  past  glory.  I 
value  more  the  continuance  of  his  good-will  than  the 
prospect  of  anything  which  he  may  do  for  me.  1  am 
withdrawing  from  public  affairs,  and  giving  myself 
to  literature.  But  I  am  broken-hearted,  my  dear 
brother  ;  —  I  am  broken-hearted  that  the  constitution 
is  gone,  that  the  courts  of  law  are  naught :  and  that 
now  at  my  time  of  life,  when  I  ought  to  be  leading 
with  authority  in  the  Senate,  I  must  be  either  busy 
in  the  Forum  pleading,  or  occupying  myself  with  my 
books  at  home.     The  ambition  cf  my  boyhood  — 

Aye  to  be  first,  and  chief  among  my  peers  — 

is  all  departed.     Of  my  enemies,  I  have  left -some  un* 

•    ^  Ad  Familiar es,  i.  9. 


328  Omar. 

assailed,  and  some  I  even  defend.  Not  only  I  may 
not  think  as  I  like,  but  I  may  not  hate  as  I  like,^  and 
Cassar  is  the  only  person  who  loves  me  as  I  should 
wish  to  be  loved,  or,  as  some  think,  who  desires  to 
love  me."  ^ 

The  position  was  the  more  piteous,  because  Cicero 
could  not  tell  how  events  would  fall  out  after  all. 
Crassus  was  in  the  East,  with  uncertain  prospects 
there.  Csesar  was  in  the  midst  of  a  dangerous  war, 
and  might  be  killed  or  might  die.  Pompey  was  but 
u  weak  vessel;  a  distinguished  soldier,  perhaps,  but 
without  the  intellect  or  the  resolution  to  control  a 
proud,  resentful,  and  supremely  unscrupulous  aristoc- 
racy. In  spite  of  Caesar's  victories,  his  most  enven- 
omed enemy,  Domitius  Ahenobarbus,  had  succeeded 
after  all  in  carrying  one  of  the  consulships  for  the 
year  54.  The  popular  party  had  secured  the  other, 
indeed ;  but  they  had  returned  Appius  Claudius, 
Clodius's  brother,  and  this  was  but  a  poor  consola- 
tion. In  the  year  that  was  to  follow,  the  conserva- 
tives had  bribed  to  an  extent  which  astonished  the 
most  cynical  observers.  Each  season  the  elections 
were  growing  more  corrupt ;  but  the  proceedings  on 
both  sides  in  the  fall  of  54  were  the  most  audacious 
that  had  ever  been  known,  the  two  reigning  consuls 
taking  part,  and  encouraging  and  assisting  in  scan- 
dalous bargains.  "  All  the  candidates  have  bribed," 
wrote  Cicero  ;  "  but  they  will  be  all  acquitted,  and 
no  one  will  ever  be  found  guilty  again.  The  two 
consuls  are  branded  with  infamy."  Memmius,  the 
popular  competitor,  at  Pompey 's  instance,  exposed  in 

1  "  Meum  non  modo  animum,  sed  ne  odium  quidera  esse  liberum."  —  Ad 
Quintum  Fratrem,  iii.  5. 

2  See  the  story  in  a  letter  to  Atticus,  lib.  iv.  16-17. 


Electoral  Corruption,  329 

the  Ser_ate  an  arrangement  which  the   consuls   had 
entered   into   to   secure    the  returns.     The  .^ 

names  and  signatures  were  produced.  The 
scandal  was  monstrous,  and  could  not  be  denied. 
The  better  kind  of  men  began  to  speak  of  a  Dicta- 
torship as  the  only  remedy  ;  and  although  the  two 
conservative  candidates  were  declared  elected  for  53, 
and  were  allowed  to  enter  on  their  offices,  there  was 
a  general  feeling  that  a  crisis  had  arrived,  and  that 
a  great  catastrophe  could  not  be  very  far  off.  The 
form  which  it  might  assume  was  the  problem  of  the 
hour. 

Cicero,  speaking  two  years  before  on  the  broad 
conditions  of  his  time,  had  used  these  remarkable 
words  :  ^'  No  issue  can  be  anticipated  from  discords 
among  the  leading  men,  except  either  universal  ruin, 
or  the  rule  of  a  conqueror,  or  a  monarchy.  There 
exists  at  present  an  unconcealed  hatred  implanted 
and  fastened  into  the  minds  of  our  leading  politi- 
cians. They  are  at  issue  among  themselves.  Op- 
portunities are  caught  for  mutual  injury.  Those 
who  are  in  the  second  rank  watcli  for  the  chances  of 
the  time.  Those  who  might  do  better  are  afraid  of 
the  words  and  designs  of  their  enemies."  ^ 

The  discord  had  been  suspended,  and  the  intrigues 
temporarily  checked,  by  the  combination  of  Cagsar 
and  Pompey  with  Crassus,  the  chief  of  the  moneyed 
commoners.  Two  men  of  equal  military  reputation, 
and  one  of  them  from  his  greater  age  and  older  serv- 
ices expecting  and  claiming  precedency,  do  not  easily 
work  together.  For  Pompey  to  witness  the  rising 
glory  of  Ca3sar,  and  to  feel  in  his  own  person  the  su- 
perior ascendency  of  Caesar's  character,   without  an 

"^  De  Haraspicum  Respinm. 


830  CcBsar. 

en.otion  of  jealousy,  would  have  demanded  a  degree 
of  virtue  which  few  men  have  ever  possessed.  They 
had  been  united  so  far  by  identity  of  conviction,  by 
a  military  detestation  of  anarch}^,  by  a  common  in- 
terest in  wringing  justice  from  the  Senate  for  tie 
army  and  people,  by  a  pride  in  the  greatness  of  their 
country,  which  they  were  determined  to  uphohl. 
These  motives,  however,  might  not  long  have  borne 
the  strain  but  for  other  ties,  which  had  cemented 
their  union.  Pompey  had  married  Csesar's  daughter, 
to  whom  he  was  passionately  attached  ;  and  the  per- 
sonal competition  between  them  was  neutralized  by 
the  third  element  of  the  capitalist  party  represented 
by  Crassus,  which  if  they  quarrelled  would  secure 
the  supremacy  of  the  faction  to  which  Crassus  at- 
tached himself.  There  was  no  jealousy  on  Caesar's 
part.  There  was  no  occasion  for  it.  Caesar's  fame 
was  rising.  Pompey  had  added  nothing  to  his  past 
distinctions,  and  the  glory  pales  which  does  not  grow 
in  lustre.  No  man  who  had  once  been  the  single  ob- 
ject of  admiration,  who  had  tasted  the  delight  of 
being  the  first  in  the  eyes  of  his  countrymen,  could 
find  himself  compelled  to  share  their  applause  with  a 
younger  rival  without  experiencing  a  pang.  So  far 
Pompey  had  borne  the  trialwell.  He  was,  on  the 
whole,  notwithstanding  the  Egyptian  scandal,  honor- 
able and  constitutionally  disinterested.  He  was  im- 
measurably superior  to  the  fanatic  Cato,  to  the  shifty 
Cicero,  or  the  proud  and  worthless  leaders  of  the  sen- 
atorial oligarchy.  Had  the  circumstances  remained 
unchanged,  the  severity  of  the  situation  might  have 
been  overcome.  But  two  misfortunes  coming  near 
upon  one  another  broke  the  ties  of  family  connection, 
and  by  destroying  the  balance  of  parties  laid  Pom- 


Catastrophe  in  the  JEast,  331 

pey  open  to  the  temptation  of  patrician  intrigue.  In 
the  year  54  Caesar's  great  mother  Aurelia,  and  his 
daughter  Julia,  Pompey's  wife,  both  died.  A  child 
which  Julia  had  borne  to  Pompey  died  also,  and 
the  powerful  if  silent  influence  of  two  remarkable 
women,  and  the  joint  interest  in  an  infant,  who 
would  have  been  Caesar's  heir  as  well  as  Pompey's, 
were  swept  away  together. 

The  political  link  was  broken  immediately  after  by 
a  public  disaster  unequalled  since  the  last  consular 
army  was  overthrown  by  the  Gauls  on  the  Rhone  ; 
and  the  capitalists,  left  without  a  leader,  drifted 
away  to  their  natural  allies  in  the  Senate.  Crassus 
had  taken  the  field  in  the  East,  vrith  a  wild  ambition 
of  becoming  in  his  turn  a  great  conqueror.  At  first 
all  had  gone  well  with  him.  He  liad  raised  a  vast 
treasure.  He  had  plundered  the  wealthy  temples  in 
Phoenicia  and  Palestine  to  fill  his  military  chest. 
He  had  able  officers  with  him  ;  not  the  least  among 
them  his  son  Publius  Crassus,  who  had  served  with 
such  distinction  under  Caesar.  He  crossed  the  Eu- 
phrates at  the  head  of  a  magnificent  army,  expecting 
to  carry  all  before  him  with  the  ease  of  an  Alexan- 
der. Relying  on  his  own  idle  judgment,  he  was 
tempted  in  the  midst  of  a  burning  summer  into  the 
waterless  plains  of  Mesopotamia  ;  and  on  the  15th  of 
June  the  great  Roman  millionnaire  met  his  miserable 
end,  the  whole  force,  with  the  exception  of  a  few 
scattered  cohorts,  being  totally  annihilated. 

The  catastrophe  in  itself  was  terrible.  The  Par- 
thians  had  not  provoked  the  war.  The  East  was  left 
defenceless ;  and  the  natural  expectation  was  that,  in 
their  just  revenge,  they  might  carry  fire  and  sword 
through  Asia  Minor  and  Syria.     It  is  not  the  least 


382  Cmar, 

remarkable  sign  of  the  times  that  the  danger  failed 
to  touch  the  patriotism  of  the  wretched  factions  in 
Rome.  The  one  thought  of  the  leaders  of  the  Senate 
was  to  turn  the  opportunity  to  advantage,  wrest  the 
constitution  free  from  military  dictation,  shake  off 
the  detested  laws  of  Caesar,  and  revenge  themselves 
on  the  author  of  them.  The  hope  was  in  Pompey. 
If  Pompey  could  be  won  over  from  Ca3sar,  the  army 
would  be  divided.  Pompey,  they  well  knew,  unless 
he  had  a  stronger  head  than  his  own  to  guide  him, 
could  be  used  till  the  victory  was  won,  and  then  be 
thrust  aside.  It  was  but  too  easy  to  persuade  him 
that  he  was  the  greatest  man  in  the  Empire  ;  and 
that  as  the  chief  of  a  constitutional  government,  and 
with  the  Senate  at  his  side,  he  would  inscribe  his 
name  in  the  annals  of  his  country  as  the  restorer  of 
Roman  liberty. 

The  intrigue  could  not  be  matured  immediately. 
The  aristocracy  had  first  to  overcome  their  own  ani- 
mosities against  Pompey,  and  Pompey  himself  was 
generous,  and  did  not  yield  to  the  first  efforts  of  se- 
duction. The  smaller  passions  were  still  at  work 
among  the  baser  senatorial  chiefs,  and  the  appetite 
for  provinces  and  pillage.  The  Senate,  even  while 
Crassus  was  alive,  had  carried  the  consulships  for  53 
by  the  most  infamous  corruption.  They  meant  now 
to  attack  Caesar  in  earnest,  and  their  energies  were 
addressed  to  controlling  the  elections  for  the  next 
year.  Milo  was  one  of  the  candidates ;  and  Cicero, 
who  was  watching  the  political  current,  reverted  to 
his  old  friendship  for  him,  and  became  active  in  the 
canvass  Milo  was  not  a  creditable  ally.  He  already 
owed  half  a  million  of  money,  and  Cicero,  who  was 
anxious  for  his  reputation,  endeavored  to  keep  him 


Milo,  333 

within  the  bounds  of  decency.  But  Milo's  mind  was 
fastened  on  the  province  which  was  to  redeem  his  fort- 
unes, and  be  flung  into  bribery  what  was  left  of  his 
wrecked  credit  with  the  desperation  of  a  gambler. 
He  had  not  been  praetor,  and  thus  was  not  legally 
eligible  for  the  consulate.  This,  however,  was  for- 
given. He  had  been  sedile  in  54,  and  as  sedile  he 
had  already  been  magnificent  in  prodigality.  But  to 
Becure  the  larger  prize,  he  gave  as  a  private  citizen 
the  most  gorgeous  entertainment  which  even  in  that 
monstrous  age  the  city  had  yet  wondered  at.  "  Doub- 
ly, trebly  foolish  of  him,"  thought  Cicero,  "  for  he 
was  not  called  on  to  go  to  such  expense,  and  he  has 
not  the  means."  "  Milo  makes  me  very  anxious," 
he  wrote  to  his  brother.  "  I  hope  all  will  be  made 
right  by  his  consulship.  I  shall  exert  myself  for  him 
as  much  as  I  did  for  myself ;  ^  but  he  is  quite  mad," 
Cicero  added ;  "  he  has  spent  30,000Z.  on  his  games." 
Mad,  but  still,  in  Cicero's  opinion,  well  fitted  for  the 
consulship,  and  likely  to  get  it.  All  the  "  good,"  in 
common  with  himself,  were  most  anxious  for  Milo's 
success.  The  people  would  vote  for  him  as  a  reward 
for  the  spectacles,  and  the  young  and  influential  for 
his  efforts  to  secure  their  favor.^ 

The  reappearance  of  the  "  Boni,"  the  "  Good,"  in 
Cicero's  letters  marks  the  turn  of  the  tide  again  in 
his  own  mind.  The  ''  good,"  or  the  senatorial  party, 
were  once  more  the  objects  of  his  admiration.  The 
affection  for  Caesar  was  passing  off. 

A  more  objectionable  candidate  than  Milo  could 
hardly  have  been  found.     He  was  no  better  than  a 

1  "Angit  unus  Milo.  Sed  velim  finem  afferat  consulatus :  in  quo  enitat 
BOB.  minus,  quam  sum  enisus  in  iiostro."  — Ad  Quinlum  Fratrem,  id.  9. 

2  Ad  Famiiiarea,  ii.  6. 


834  Ccesar, 

patrician  gladiator,  and  the  choice  of  such  a  man  was 
a  sufficient  indication  of  the  Senate's  intentions.  The 
popular  party  led  by  the  tribunes  made  a  sturdy  re- 
sistance. There  Ayere  storms  in  the  Curia,  tribunes 
imprisoning  senators,  and  the  senate  tribunes.  Army 
officers  suggested  the  election  of  military  tribunes 
(lieutenant-generals),  instead  of  consuls;  and  when 
they  failed,  they  invited  Pompey  to  declare  himself 
Dictator.  The  Senate  put  on  mourning,  as  a  sign  of 
approaching  calamity.  Pompey  calmed  their  fears 
by  declining  so  ambitious  a  position.  But  as  it  was 
obvious  that  Milo's  chief  object  was  a  province  Avhich 
he  might  misgovern,  Pompey  forced  the  Senate  to 
pass  a  resolution,  that  consuls  and  prsetors  must  wait 
five  years  from  their  term  of  office  before  a  province 
was  to  be  allotted  to  them.  The  temptation  to  cor- 
ruption might  thus  in  some  degree  be  diminished. 
But  senatorial  resolutions  did  not  pass  for  much,  and 
what  a  vote  had  enacted  a  vote  could  repeal.  The 
agitation  continued.  The  tribunes,  when  the  time 
came,  forbade'  the  elections.  The  year  expired.  The 
old  magistrates  went  out  of  office,  and  Rome  was  left 
again  without  legitimate  functionaries  to  carry  on  the 
government.  All  the  offices  fell  vacant  together. 
Now  once  more  Clodiiis  was  reappearing  on  the 
scene.     He  had  been  silent  for  two  years, 

B  C  52. 

content  or  constrained  to  leave  the  control 
of  the  democracy  to  the  three  chiefs.  One  of  them 
was  now  gone.  The  more  advanced  section  of  the 
party  was  beginning  to  distrust  Pompey.  Clodius, 
their  favorite  representative,  had  been  put  forward 
for  the  praetorship,  while  Milo  was  aspiring  to  be 
made  consul,  and  Clodius  had  prepared  a  fresh  batch 
^f  laws  to  be  submitted  to  the  sovereign  people  ;  one 


Rome  in  a  State  of  Anarchy,  335 

of  which  (if  Cicero  did  not  misrepresent  it  to  in- 
flame the  aristocracy)  was  a  measure  of  some  kind 
for  the  enfranchisement  of  the  shives,  or  perhaps  of 
tlie  sons  of  slaves.^  He  was  as  popular  as  ever.  He 
claimed  to  be  acting  for  Csesar,  and  was  held  certain 
of  success  ;  if  he  was  actually  praetor,  such  was  his 
extraordinary  influence,  and  such  was  the  condition 
of  things  in  the  city,  that  if  Milo  Avas  out  of  the  way 
he  could  secure  consuls  of  his  own  way  of  thinking, 
and  thus  have  the  whole  constitutional  power  in  his 
hands.2 

Thus  both  sides  had  reason  for  fearing  and  post- 
poning the  elections.  Authority,  which  had  been 
weak  before,  was  now  extinct.  Rome  was  in  a  state 
of  formal  anarchy,  and  the  factions  of  Milo  and  Clo- 
dius  fought  daily,  as  before,  in  the  streets,  with  no 
one  to  interfere  with  them. 

Violent  humors  come  naturally  to  a  violent  end. 
Milo  had  long  before  threatened  to  kill  Clo-  January  14, 
dius.  Cicero  had  openly  boasted  of  his  ^•^•^2. 
friend's  intention  to  do  it,  and  had  spoken  of  Clodius 
in  the  Senate  itself  as  Milo's  predestined  victim.  On 
the  evening  of  the  13th  January,  while  the  uncer- 
tainty about  the  elections  was  at  its  height,  Clodius 
was  returning  from  his  country  house,  which  was  a 
few  miles  from  Rome  on  "the  Appian  Way."  Milo 
happened  to  be  travelling  accidentally  down  the  same 

1  "  Incidebantur  jam  domi  leges  quae  nos  nostris  pervis  addicerent 

Oppreesisset  omnia,  possderet,  teneret  lege  nova,  qu£e  est  iiiventa  apud 
eum  cum  reliquis  legibus  Clodianis.  Servos  nostros  libertos  siios  feels- 
set." —  Pro  Milone,  '42,  33.  These  strong  expressions  can  hardly  refer  to 
a  proposed  enfranchisement  of  the  libertini,  or  sons  of  freedmen,  like  Hor- 
ace's father.         • 

2  "Cajsaris  potentiam  suam  esse  dicebat An  consules  in  praetore 

«oercendo  fortes  fuissent?  Primum,  Milone  occiso  habuisset  suos  consu- 
tes."  —  Pro  Milone,  33. 


386  Omar, 

road,  on  his  way  to  Lanuvium  (Civita  iDdovina), 
and  the  two  rivals  and  their  escorts  met.  Milo's 
party  was  the  largest.  The  leaders  passed  one  an- 
other, evidently  not  intending  a  collision,  but  their 
followers,  who  were  continually  at  sword's  point, 
came  naturally  to  blows.  Clodius  rode  back  to  seo 
what  was  going  on  ;  he  was  attacked  and  wounded, 
and  took  refuge  in  a  house  on  the  roadside.  The 
temptation  to  make  an  end  of  his  enemy  was  too 
strong  for  Milo  to  resist.  To  have  hurt  Clodius 
would,  he  thought,  be  as  dangerous  as  to  have  made 
an  end  of  him.  His  blood  was  up.  The  "  predes- 
tined victim,"  who  had  thwarted  him  for  so  many 
years,  was  within  his  reach.  The  house  was  forced 
open.  Clodius  was  dragged  out  bleeding,  and  was 
dispatched,  and  the  body  was  left  lying  where  he  fell, 
where  a  senator,  named  Sextus  Tedius,  who  was  pass- 
ing an  hour  or  two  after,  found  it,  and  carried  it  the 
same  night  to  Rome.  The  little  which  is  known  of 
Clodius  comes  only  through  Cicero's  denunciations, 
which  formed  or  colored  later  Roman  traditions ;  and 
it  is  thus  difficult  to  comprehend  the  affection  which 
the  people  felt  for  him  ;  but  of  the  fact  there  can  be 
no  doubt  at  all ;  he  was  the  representative  of  their 
political  opinions,  the  embodiment,  next  to  Caesar,  of 
their  practical  hopes ;  and  his  murder  was  accepted  as 
a  declaration  of  an  aristocratic  war  upon  them,  and 
the  first  blow  in  another  massacre.  On  the  following 
day,  in  the  winter  morning,  the  tribunes  brought  the 
body  into  the  Forum.  A  vast  crowd  had  collected 
to  see  it,  and  it  was  easy  to  lash  them  into  furj^ 
They  dashed  in  the  doors  of  the  adjoining  Senate- 
house,  they  carried  in  the  bier,  made  a  pile  of  chairs 
and  benches  and  tables,  and  burnt  all  that  remained 


Trial  of  Milo,  837 

of  Clodius  in  the  ashes  of  the  Senate-house  itself. 
The  adjoining  temples  were  consumed  in  the  confla- 
gration. The  Senate  collected  elsewhere.  They  put 
on  a  bold  front,  they  talked  of  naming  an  Interrex 
—  which  they  ought  to  have  done  before  —  and  of 
holding  the  elections  instantly,  now  that  Clodius  was 
gone.  Milo  still  hoped,  and  the  aristocracy  still  hoped 
for  Milo.  But  the  storm  was  too  furious.  Pompey 
came  in  with  a  body  of  troops,  restored  order,  and 
took  command  of  the  city.  The  preparations  for  the 
election  were  quashed.  Pompey  still  declined  the 
Dictatorship,  but  he  was  named,  or  he  named  him- 
self, sole  consul,  and  at  once  appointed  a  commission 
to  inquire  into  the  circumstances  of  Milo's  canvass, 
and  the  corruption  which  had  gone  along  with  it. 
Milo  himself  was  arrested  and  put  on  his  trial  for  the 
murder.  Judges  were  chosen  who  could  be  trusted, 
and  to  prevent  intimidation  the  court  was  occupied 
by  soldiers.  Cicero  undertook  his  friend's  defence, 
but  was  unnerved  by  the  stern,  grim  faces  with  which 
he  was  surrounded.  The  eloquent  tongue  forgot  its 
office.  He  stammered,  blundered,  and  sat  down.^ 
The  consul  expectant  was  found  guilty  and  banished, 
to  return  a  few  years  after  like  a  hungry  wolf  in  the 
civil  war,  and  to  perish  as  he  deserved.  Pompey's 
justice  was  even-handed.  He  punished  Milo,  but  the 
Senate-house  and  temples  were  not  to  be  destroyed 
without  retribution  equally  severe.  The  tribunes 
who  had  led  on  the  mob  were  deposed,  and  suffered 
various  penalties.  Pompey  acted  with  a  soldier's  ab- 
horrence of  disorder,  and  so  far,  he  did  what   Csesar 

1  The  Oratiopro  Milone,  published  afterwards  by  Cicero,  was  the  speech 
which  he  intended  to  deliver  and  did  not. 
22 


338  Ccesar, 

approved  and  would  himself  have  done  in  Pompey'a 
place. 

But  there  followed  symptoms  which  showed  that 
there  were  secret  influences  at  work  with  Porapey, 
and  that  he  was  not  the  man  which  he  had  been, 
He  had  taken  the  consulate  alone  ;  but  a  single  coa- 
sul  was  an  anomaly  ;  as  soon  as  order  was  restoied  it 
was  understood  that  he  meant  to  clioose  a  colleague  ; 
and  Senate  and  people  were  watching  to  see  whom 
he  would  select  as  an  indication  of  his  future  atti- 
tude. Half  the  world  expected  that  he  would  name 
Caesar,  but  half  the  world  was  disappointed.  He 
took  Metellus  Scipio,  who  had  been  the  Senate's 
second  candidate  by  the  side  of  Milo,  and  had  been 
as  deeply  concerned  in  bribery  as  Milo  himself ; 
shortly  after,  and  with  still  more  significance,  he  re- 
placed Julia  by  Metellus  Scipio's  daughter,  the  widow 
of  young  Publius  Crassus,  who  had  fallen  with  his 
father. 

Pompey,  however,  did  not  break  with  Csesar,  and 
did  not  appear  to  intend  to  break  with  him.  Com- 
munications passed  between  them  on  the  matter  of 
the  consulship.  The  tribunes  had  pressed  him  as 
Pompey's  colleague.  Csesar  himself,  being  then  in 
tlie  North  of  Italy,  had  desired,  on  being  consulted, 
that  the  demand  might  not  be  insisted  on.  He  had 
work  still  before  him  in  Gaul  which  he  could  not 
leave  unfinished ;  but  he  made  a  request  himself  that 
must  be  noticed,  since  the  civil  war  formally  gre.w 
out  of  it,  and  Pompey  gave  a  definite  pledge,  which 
was  afterwards  broken. 

One  of  the  engagements  at  Lucca  had  been  that 
when  Caesar's  command  should  have  expired  he  waa 
to  be  again  consul.     His  term  had  still  three  years  to 


Promise  of  a  Seco7id.  ConsuUhip  to  Ccesar,     839 

run ;  but  many  things  might  happen  in  three  years. 
A  party  in  the  Senate  were  bent  on  his  recalh  They 
might  succeed  in  persuading  the  people  to  consent  to 
it.  And  Csesar  felt,  as  Pompey  had  felt  before  him, 
that,  in  the  unscrupulous  humor  of  his  enemies  at 
Rome,  he  might  be  impeached  or  killed  on  his  return, 
as  Clodius  had  been,  if  he  came  back  a  private  citizen 
unprotected  by  office  to  sue  for  his  election.  There- 
fore he  had  stipulated  at  Lucca  that  his  name  might 
be  taken  and  that  votes  might  be  given  for  him  while 
he  was  still  with  his  army.  On  Pompey's  taking  the 
power  into  his  hands,  Caesar,  while  abandoning  any 
present  claim  to  share  it,  reminded  him  of  this  under- 
standing, and  required  at  the  same  time  that  it  should 
be  renewed  in  some  authoritative  form.  The  Senate, 
glad  to  escape  on  any  terms  from  the  present  con- 
junction of  the  men  whom  they  hoped  to  divide,  ap- 
peared to  consent.  Cicero  himself  made  a  journey  to 
Ravenna  to  see  Caesar  about  it  and  make  a  positive 
arrangement  with  him.  Pompey  submitted  the  con- 
dition to  the  assembly  of  the  people,  by  whom  it  was 
solemnly  ratified.  Every  precaution  was  observed 
which  would  give  the  promise  that  Csesar  might  be 
elected  consul  in  his  absence  the  character  of  a  bind- 
ing engagement.^ 

It  was  observed  with  some  surprise  that  Pompey, 
not  long  after,  proposed  and  carried  a  law  forbidding 
elections  of  this  irregular  kind,  and  insisting  freshly 

1  Suetonius,  De  Vitd  Julii  Ccesaris.  Cicero  again  and  again  aclcnowl- 
edges  in  his  letters  to  Atticus  that  the  engagement  had  really  been  made. 
Writing  to  Atticus  (vii.  1),  Cicero  saA's :  "  Non  est  locus  ad  tergiversan- 
dum.  Contra  Cajsarem  ?  Ubi  illse  sunt  denssB  dextenoV  Nam  ut  illi  hoc 
liceret  adjuvi  rogatus  jib  ipso  Ravennse  de  Caelio  tribuno  plebis.  Ab  ipso 
autem?  Etiam  a  Cnaeo  nostro  in  illo  diviuo  tertio  ccnsulatu.  Alitei 
«iensero  ?  " 


840  ^  Coemr, 

on  the  presence  of  the  candidates  in  person.  Caesar's 
case  was  not  reserved  as  an  exception  or  in  any  way- 
alluded  to.  And  when  a  question  was  asked  on  the 
subject,  the  excuse  given  was  that  it  had  been  over- 
looked by  accident.  Such  accidents  require  to  be  in- 
terpreted by  the  use  which  is  made  of  them. 


CHAPTER  XIX. 

The  conquest  of  .Gaul  had  been  an  exploit  of  ex- 
traordinary military  difficulty.  The  intri- 
cacy of  the  problem  had  been  enhanced  by 
the  venom  of  a  domestic  faction,  to  which  the  victo- 
ries of  a  democratic  general  were  more  unwelcome 
than  national  disgrace.  The  discomfiture  of  Crassus 
had  been  more  pleasant  news  to  the  Senate  than  the 
defeat  of  Ariovistus,  and  the  passionate  hope  of  the 
aristocracy  had  been  for  some  opportunity  which 
would  enable  them  to  check  Csesar  in  his  career  of 
conquest  and  bring  him  home  to  dishonor  and  per- 
haps impeachment.  They  had  failed.  The  efforts 
of  the  Gauls  to  maintain  or  recover  their  indepen- 
dence had  been  successively  beaten  down,  and  at  the 
close  of  the  summer  of  53  Ca3sar  had  returned  to  the 
North  of  Italy,  believing  that  the  organization  of  the 
province  which  he  had  added  to  the  Empire  was  all 
that  remained  to  be  accomplished.  But  Roman  civil- 
ians had  followed  in  the  van  of  the  armies.  Roman 
traders  had  penetrated  into  the  towns  on  the  Seine 
and  the  Loire,  and  the  curious  Celts  had  learnt  from 
them  the  distractions  of  their  new  rulers.  Caesar's 
situation  was  as  well  understood  amonor  the  ^dui 
and  the  Sequani  as  in  the  clubs  and  coteries  of  the 
capital  of  the  Empire,  and  the  turn  of  events  was 
watched  with  equal  anxiety.  The  victory. over  Sabi- 
aus,  sharply  avenged  as  it  had  been,  kept  alive  the 
hope  that  their  independence  might  yet  be  recovered. 


842  Ccesar, 

The  disaffection  of  tlie  preceding  summer  had  been 
trampled  out,  but  the  ashes  of  it  were  still  smoulder- 
ing ;  and  when  it  became  known  that  Clodius,  who 
was  regarded  as  Caesar's  tribune,  had  been  killed, 
that  the  Senate  was  in  power  again,  and  that  Italy- 
was-  threatened  with  civil  convulsions,  their  passion- 
ate patriotism  kindled  once  more  into  flame.  Sudden 
in  their  resolutions,  they  did  not  pause  to  watch  how 
the  balance  would  incline.  Cassar  was  across  the 
Alps.  Either  he  would  be  deposed,  or  civil  war 
would  detain  him  in  Italy.  His  legions  were  scat- 
tered between  Treves,  A uxerre,  and  Sens,  far  from 
the  Roman  frontier.  A  simultaneous  rising  would 
cut  them  off  from  support,  and  they  could  be  starved 
out  or  overwhelmed  in  detail,  as  Sabinus  had  been  at 
Tongres  and  Cicero  had  almost  been  at  Charleroy. 
Intelligence  was  swiftly  exchanged.  The  chiefs  of 
all  the  tribes  established  communications  with  each 
other.  They  had  been  deeply  affected  by  the  execu- 
tion of  Acco,  the  patriotic  leader  of  the  Carnutes. 
The  death  of  Acco  was  an  intimation  that  they  were 
Roman  subjects,  and  were  to  be  punished  as  traitors 
if  they  disobeyed  a  Roman  command.  They  buried 
their  own  dissensions.  Except  among  the  -3Cdui 
there  was  no  longer  a  Roman  faction  and  a  patriot 
faction.  The  whole  nation  was  inspired  by  a  simul- 
taneous impulse  to  snatch  the  opportunity,  and  unite 
in  a  single  effort  to  assert  their  freedom.  The  under- 
standing was  complete.  A  day  was  fixed  for  a  uni- 
versal rising.  The  Carnutes  began  by  a  massacre 
which  would  cut  off  possibility  of  retreat,  and,  in  re- 
venge for  Acco,  slaughtered  a  party  of.  Roman  civil- 
ians who  were  engaged  in  business  at  Gien.^     A  sys- 

1  Above  Orleans,  on  the  Loire. 


Vercingetorix,  843 

tern  of  signals  had  been  quietly  arranged.  The 
massacre  at  Glen  was  known  in  a  few  hours  in  tho 
South,  and  the  Auvergne  country,  which  had  hitherto 
been  entirely  peaceful,  rose  in  reply,  under  a  young 
high-born  chief  named  Vercingetorix.  Gergovia. 
the  principal  town  of  the  Arverni,  was  for  the  mo- 
ment  undecided.^  The  elder  men  there,  who  had 
known  the  Romans  long,  were  against  immediate  ac- 
tion ;  but  Vercingetorix  carried  the  people  away  with 
him.  His  name  had  not  appeared  in  the  earlier  cam- 
paigns, but  his  father  had  been  a  man  of  note  beyond 
the  boundaries  of  Auvergne;  and  he  must  himself 
have  had  a  wide  reputation  among  the  Gauls,  for 
everywhere,  from  the  Seine  to  the  Garonne,  he  was 
accepted  as  chief  of  the  national  confederacy.  Ver- 
cingetorix had  high  ability  and  real  organizing  pow- 
ers. He  laid  out  a  plan  for  the  general  campaign. 
He  fixed  a  contingent  of  men  and  arms  wliich  each 
tribe  was  to  supply,  and  failure  brought  instantane- 
ous punishment.  Mild  offences  were  visited  with  the 
loss  of  eyes  or  ears  ;  neglect  of  a  more  serious  sort 
with  death  by  fire  in  the  wicker  tower.  Between 
enthusiasm  and  terror  he  had  soon  an  army  at  his 
command,  which  he  could  increase  indefinitely  at  his 
need.  Part  he  left  to  watch  the  Roman  pro7ince 
and  prevent  Cassar,  if  he  should  arrive,  from  passing 
through.  With  part  he  went  himself  to  watch  the 
JEdui,  the  great  central  race,  where  Roman  authority 
had  hitherto  prevailed  unshaken,  but  among  whom, 
as  he  well  knew,  he  had  the  mass  of  the  people  on 
his  side.  The  ^dui  were  hesitating.  They  called 
their  levies  under  arms,  as  if  to  oppose  him,  but  they 
withdrew  them  again  ;  and  to  waver  at  such  a  mo- 
ment was  to  yield  to  the  stream. 

i  Four  miles  from  Clermont,  on  the  Allier,  in  the  Puv-de-D6me 


844  Ccemr, 

The  GaTils  had  not  calculated  without  reasojj  on 
Csesar's  embarrassments.  The  death  of  Clodius  had 
been  followed  by  the  burning  of  the  Senate-liouse 
and  by  many  weeks  of  anarchy.  To  leave  Italy  at 
such  a  moment  might  be  to  leave  it  a  prey  to  faction 
or  civil  war.  His  anxiety  was  relieved  at  last  by 
hearing  that  Pompey  had  acted,  and  tliat  order  was 
restored ;  and  seeing  no  occasion  for  his  own  inter- 
fereince,  and  postponing  the  agitation  for  his  second 
consulship,  he  hurried  back  to  encounter  the  final  and 
convulsive  effort  of  the  Celtic  race  to  preserve  their 
liberties.  The  legions  were  as  yet  in  no  danger. 
They  were  dispersed  in  the  North  of  France,  far 
from  the  scene  of  the  present  rising,  and  the  North- 
ern tribes  had  suffered  too  desperately  in  the  past 
years  to  be  in  a  condition  to  stir  without  assistance. 
But  how  was  Csesar  to  join  them?  The  garrisons  in 
the  province  could  not  be  moved.  If  he  sent  for  the 
army  to  eome  across  to  him,  Vercingetorix  would  at- 
tack them  on  the  march,  and  he  could  not  feel  confi- 
dent of  the  result ;  while  the  line  of  the  old  frontier 
of  the  province  was  in  the  hands  of  the  insurgents, 
or  of  tribes  who  could  not  be  trusted  to  resist  the 
temptation,  if  he  passed  through  himself  without 
more  force  than  the  province  could  supply.  But 
Caesar  had  a  resource  which  never  failed  him  in  the 
daring  swiftness  of  his  own  movements.  He  sent  for 
the  troops  which  were  left  beyond  the  Alps.  He  had 
a  few  levi^s  with  him  to  fill  the  gaps  in  the  old  le- 
gions, and  after  a  rapid  survey  of  the  stations  on  the 
provincial  frontier  he  threw  hiniself  upon  the  passes 
of  the  Cevennes,  It  was  still  winter.  The  snow  lay 
six  feet  thick  on  the  mountains,  and  the  roads  at  that 
season  were  considered  impracticable  even  for  single 


Revolt  of  Gaul  345 

travellers.  The  Auvergne  rebels  dreamt  of  nothing 
BO  little  as  of  Caesar's  coming  upon  them  at  such  a 
time  and  from  such  a  quarter.  He  forced  his  way. 
He  fell  on  them  while  they  were  lying  in  imagined 
security,  Vercingetorix  and  his  army  being  absent 
watching  the  ^dui,  and,  letting  loose  his  cavalry, 
he  laid  their  country  waste.  But  Vercingetorix,  he 
knew,  would  fly  back  at  the  news  of  his  arrival ;  and 
he  had  already  made  his  further  plans.  He  formed 
a  strong  intrenched  camp,  where  he  left  Deciraus 
Brutus  in  charge,  telling  him  that  he  would  return 
as  quickly  as  possible  ;  and,  unknown  to  any  one, 
lest  the  troops  should  lose  courage  at  parting  w^itli 
him,  he  flew  across  through  an  enemy's  country  with 
a  handful  of  attendants  to  Vienne,  on  the  Rhone, 
where  some  cavalry  from  the  province  had  been  sent 
to  wait  for  him.  Vercingetorix,  supposing  him  still 
to  be  in  the  Auvergne,  thought  only  of  the  camp  of 
Brutus  ;  and  Csesar,  riding  day  and  night  through 
the  doubtful  territories  oi  the  JEdui,  reached  the  two 
legions  which  were  quartered  near  Auxerre.  Thence 
he  sent  for  the  rest  to  join  him,  and  he  was  at  the 
head  of  his  army  before  Vercingetorix  knew  that 
only  Brutus  was  in  front  of  him.  The  ^dui,  he 
trusted,  would  now  remain  faithful.  But  the  problem 
before  him  was  still  most  intricate.  The  grass  had 
not  begun  to  grow.  Rapid  movement  was  essential 
to  prevent  the  rebel  confederacy  from  consolidating 
•itself ;  but  rapid  movements  with  a  large  force  re- 
quired supplies  ;  and  whence  were  the  supplies  to 
come  ?  Some  risks  had  to  be  run,  but  to  delay  was 
the  most  dangerous  of  all.  On  the  defeat  of  the 
Helvetii,  Csesar  had  planted  a  colony  of  them  at 
Gorgobines,  near  Nevers,  on  the  Loire.     These  col- 


346  Cmar, 

oiusts,  called  Boii,  had  refused  to  take  part  in  the 
rising ;  and  Vercingetorix,  turning  in  contempt  from 
Brutus,  had  gone  off  to  punish  them.  Csesar  ordered 
the  JSdui  to  furnish  his  commissariat,  sent  word  to 
the  Boii  that  he  was  coming  to  their  relief,  swept 
tlu'ough  the  Senones,  that  he  might  leave  no  enemy 
in  his  rear,  and  then  advanced  on  Gien,  where  the 
Roman  traders  had  been  murdered,  and  which  the 
Carnutes  still  occupied  in  force.  There  was  a  bridge 
there  over  the  Loire,  by  which  they  tried  to  escape 
in  the  night.  Caesar  had  beset  the  passage.  He  took 
the  whole  of  them  prisoners,  plundered  and.  burnt 
the  town,  gave  the  spoil  to  his  troops,  and  then 
crossed  the  river  and  went  up  to  help  the  Boii.  He 
took  Nevers.  Vercingetorix,  who  was  hastening  to 
its  relief,  ventured  liis  first  battle  with  him ;  but  the 
cavalry,  on  which  the  Gauls  most  depended,  were 
scattered  by  Caesar's  German  horse.  He  was '  en- 
tirely beaten,  and  Caesar  turned  next  to  Avaricum 
(Bourges),  a  rich  and  strongly  fortified  town  of  the 
Bituriges.  From  past  experience  Caasar  had  gath- 
ered that  the  Gauls  were  easily  excited  and  as  easily 
discouraged.  If  he  could  reduce  Bourges,  he  hoped 
that  this  part  of  the  country  would  return  to  its  al- 
legiance.  Perhaps  he  thought  that  Vercingetorix 
himself  would  give  up  the  struggle.  But  he  had  to 
deal  with  a  spirit  and  with  a  man  different  from  any 
which  he  had  hitherto  encountered.  Disappointed 
in  his  political  expectations,  baffled  in  strategy,  and 
now  defeated  in  open  fight,  the  young  chief  of  the 
Arverni  had  only  learnt  that  he  had  taken  a  wrong 
mode  of.  carrying  on  the  war,  and  that  he  was  wast- 
ing his  real  advantages.  Battles  in  the  field  he  saw 
that  he  would  lose.     But  the  Roman  numbers  were 


Revolt  of  Gaul,  347 

limited,  and  his  were  infinite.  Tens  of  thousands  of 
gallant  yoang  men,  Avith  their"  light,  active  horses, 
were  eager  for  any  work  on  which  he  might  set  them. 
They  could  scour  the  country  far  and  wide.  They 
could  cut  off  Ca3sar's  supplies.  They  could  turn 
the  fields  into  a  blackened  wilderness  before  him  on 
whichever  side  he  might  turn.  The  hearts  of  the 
people  were  with  him.  They  consented  to  a  univer- 
sal sacrifice.  They  burnt  their  farmsteads.  They 
burnt  their  villages.  Twenty  towns  (so  called)  of 
the  Bituriges  were  consumed  in  a  single  day.  The 
tribes  adjoining  caught  the  enthusiasm.  The  horizon 
at  night  was  a  ring  of  blazing  fires.  Vercingetorix 
was  for  burning  Bourges  also  ;  but  it  was  the  sacred 
home  of  the  Bituriges,  the  one  spot  which  they  im- 
plored to  be  allowed  to  save,  the  most  beautiful  city 
in  all  Gaul.  Rivers  defended  it  on  three  sides,  and 
on  the  fourth  there  were  swamps  and  marshes  which 
could  be  passed  only  by  a  narrow  ridge.  Within  the 
walls  the  people  had  placed  the  best  of  their  prop- 
erty, and  Vercingetorix,  against  his  judgment,  con- 
sented, in  pity  for  their  entreaties,  that  Avaricum 
should  be  defended.  A  strong  garrison  was  left  in- 
side. Vercingetorix  intrenched  himself  in  the  for- 
ests sixteen  miles  distant,  keeping  watch  over  Caesar's 
communications.  The  place  could  only  be  taken  by 
regular  approaches,  during  which  the  army  had  to  be 
fed.  The  jEdui  were  growing  negligent.  The  feeble 
Boii,  grateful,  it  seemed,  for  Caesar's  treatment  of 
them,  exerted  themselves  to  the  utmost,  but  their 
umall  resources  were  soon  exhausted.  For  many  days 
the  legions  were  without  bread.  The  cattle  had  been 
driven  into  the  woods.  It  came  at  last  to  actual  fam- 
ine.^ "  But  not  one  word  was  heard  from  them," 
1  "Extrema  fames."  —JOe  BeU.  GaU.  vii.  17. 


848  Ccesar, 

Bays  Caesar,  "  unworthy  of  the  majesty  of  the  Roman 
people  or  their  own  earlier  victories."  He  told  thorn 
that  if  th^  distress  became  unbearable  he  would  raise 
the  siege.  With  one  voice  they  entreated  him  to  per- 
severe. They  had  served  many  years  with  him,  they 
said,  and  had  never  abandoned  any  enterprise  which 
they  had  undertaken.  They  were  ready  to  endure 
any  degree  of  hardship  before  they  would  leave  un- 
avenged their  countrymen  who  had  been  murdered 
at  Gien. 

Vercingetorix,  knowing  that  the  Romans  were  in 
difficulties,  ventured  nearer.  Cassar  surveyed  his  po- 
sition. It  had  been  well  chosen  behind  a  deep  morass. 
The  legions  clamored  to  be  allowed  to  advance  and 
attack  him,  but  a  victory,  he  saw,  would  be  dearly 
purchased.  No  condemnation  could  be  too  severe  for 
him,  he  said,  if  he  did  not  hold  the  lives  of  his  sol- 
diers dearer  than  his  own  interest,^  and  he  led  them 
back  without  indulging  their  eagerness. 

The  siege  work  was  unexpectedly  difficult.  The 
inhabitants  of  the  Loire  country  were  skilled  artisans, 
trained  in  mines  and  iron  works.  The  walls,  built  of 
alternate  layers  of  stone  and  timber,  were  forty  feet 
\n  thickness,  and  could  neither  be  burnt  nor  driven 
in  with  the  ram.  The  town  could  be  taken  only 
with  the  help  of  an  agger  —  a  bank  of  turf  and  fag- 
•^^ots  raised  against  the  wall  of  sufficient  height  to 
overtop  the  fortifications.  The  weather  was  cold  and 
wet,  but  the  legions  worked  with  such  a  will  that  in 
twenty-five  days  they  had  raised  their  bank  at  last,  a 
hundred  yards  in  width  and  eighty  feet  high.  As 
the  work  drew  near  its  end  Csesar  himself  lay  out  all 

1  "  Summa  se  Jniquitatis  con  lemnari  debere  nisi  eorum  vitam  sua  salut« 
luibeat  caiiorem." 


Siege  of  Bourges,  349 

night  among  the  men,  encouraging  them.  One  morn- 
ing at  daybreak  he  observed  that  the  agger  was  smok- 
ing. The  ingenious  Gauls  had  undermined  it  and 
Bet  it  on  fire.  At  the  same  moment  they  appeared 
along  the  walls  with  pitch-balls,  torches,  faggots, 
which  they  hurled  in  to  feed  the  flames.  There  was 
an  instant  of  confusion,  but  Caesar  uniformly  had  iw  a 
legions  under  arms  while  the  rest  were  working. 
The  Gauls  fought  with  a  courage  which  called  out 
his  warm  admiration.  He  watched  them  at  the 
points  of  greatest  danger  falling  under  the  shots  from 
the  scorpions,  and  others  stepping  undaunted  into 
their  places  to  fall  in  the  same  way.  Their  valor 
was  unavailing.  They  were  driven  in,  and  the  flames 
were  extinguished ;  the  agger  was  level  with  the 
walls,  and  defence  was  no  longer  possible.  The  gar- 
rison intended  to  slip  away  at  night  through  the  ruins 
to  join  their  friends  outside.  The  wailing  of  the 
women  was  heard  in  the  Roman  camp,  and  escape 
was  made  impossible.  The  morning  after,  in  a  tem- 
pest of  rain  and  wind,  the  place  was  stormed.  The 
legionaries,  excited  by  the  remembrance  of  Gien  and 
the  long  resistance,  slew  every  human  being  that  they 
found,  men,  women,  and  children  all  alike.  Out  of 
forty  thousand  who  were  within  the  walls  eight  hun- 
dred only,  that  had  fled  at  the  first  sound  of  the  at- 
tack, made  their  way  to  the  camp  of  Vercingetorix. 

Undismayed  by  the  calamity,  Vercingetorix  made 
use  of  it  to  sustain  the  determination  of  his  followers. 
He  pointed  out  to  them  that  he  had  himself  opposed 
the  defence.  The  Romans  had  defeated  them,  not 
l)y  superior  courage,  but  by  superior  science.  The 
heart  of  the  whole  nation  was  united  to  force  the 
Romans  out  of  Gaul,  and  they  had  only  to  persevere 


850  Ccesar, 

in  a  course  of  action  Avhere  science  would  be  useless, 
to  be  sure  of  success  in  the  end.  He  fell  back  upon 
his  own  country,  taking  special  care  of  the  poor  create 
ures  who  had  escaped  from  the  carnage  ;  and  the  ef- 
fect of  the  storming  of  Bourges  was  to  make  the  na- 
tional enthusiasm  hotter  and  fiercer  than  before. 

The  Komans  found  in  the  town  large  magazines  of 
corn  and  other  provisions,  which  had  been  laid  in  for 
the  siege,  and  Cjjesar  remained  there  some  days  to  re- 
fresh his  troopSe  The  winter  was  now  over.  The 
^dui  were  giving  him  anxiety,  and  as  soon  as  he 
could  he  moved  to  Decize,  a  frontier  town  belonging 
to  them  on  the  Loire,  almost  in  the  very  centre  of 
France.  The  anti-Roman  faction  were  growing  in 
influence.  He  called  a  council  of  the  principal  persons, 
and,  to  secure  the  fidelity  of  so  important  a  tribe,  he 
deposed  the  reigning  chief  and  appointed  another 
who  had  been  nominated  by  the  Druids.^  He  lect- 
ured the  ^dui  on  their  duty,  bade  them  furnish  him 
with  ten  thousand  men,  who  were  to  take  charge  of 
the  commissariat,  and  then  divided  his  army.  La- 
bienus,  with  four  legions,  was  sent  to  compose  the 
country  between  Sens  and  Paris.  He  himself,  with 
the  remaining  six  legions,  ascended  the  right  bank 
of  the  Allier  towards  Gergjovia  in  search  of  Vercinm^t- 
orix.  The  bridges  on  the  Allier  were  broken,  but 
Csesar  seized  and  repaired  one  of  them  and  carried 
his  army  over. 

The  town  of  Gergovia  stood  on  a  high  plateau, 
where  the  rivers  rise  which  run  into  the  Loire  on  one 
side  and  into  the  Dordogne  on  the  other.  The  sides 
of  the  hill  are  steep,  and  only  accessible  at  a  vei-y  few 
places,  and  the  surrounding  neighborhood  is  broken 

1  X>e  Bell  Gall.  vii.  33. 


Siege  of  G-ergovia.  851 

with  rocky  valleys.  Yercingetorix  lay  in  force  out- 
side, but  in  a  situation  where  he  could  not  be  attacked 
except  at  disadvantage,  and  with  his  communication 
with  the  fortress  secured.  He  was  departing  again 
from  his  general  plan  for  the  campaign  in  allowing 
Gergovia  to  be  defended  ;  but  it  was  the  central  home 
of  his  own  tribe,  and  the  result  showed  that  he  was 
right  in  believing  it  to  be  impregnable.  Caesar  saw 
that  it  was  too  strong  to  be  stormed,  and  that  it 
could  only  be  taken  after  long  operations.  After  a 
few  skirmishes  he  seized  a  spur  of  the  plateau  which 
cut  off  the  garrison  from  their  readiest  water-supply, 
and  he  formed  an  intrenched  camp  upon  it.  He 
was  studying  the  rest  of  the  problem  when  bad  news 
came  that  the  ^dui  were  unsteady  again.  The  ten 
thousand  men  had  been  raised  as  he  had  ordered,  but 
on  their  way  to  join  him  they  had  murdered  the  Ro- 
man officers  in  charge  of  them,  and  were  preparing  to 
go  over  to  Vercingetorix.  Leaving  two  legions  to 
guard  his  works,  he  intercepted  the  ^duan  contin- 
gent, took  them  prisoners,  and  protected  their  lives. 
In  his  absence  Vercingetorix  had  attacked  the  camp 
with  determined  fury.  The  fighting  had  been  des- 
perate, and  Caesar  only  returned  in  time  to  save  it. 
The  reports  from  the  ^dui  were  worse  and  worse. 
The  patriotic  faction  had  the  upper  hand,  and  with 
\he  same  passionate  determination  to  commit  them- 
selves irrecoverably,  which  had  been  shown  before  at 
Gien,  they  had  massacred  every  Roman  in  their  ter- 
ritory. It  was  no  time  for  delaying  over  a  tedious 
siege  :  Cassar  was  on  the  point  of  raising  it,  when  ac- 
cident brought  on  a  battle  under  the  walls.  An  op- 
portunity seemed  to  offer  itself  of  capturing  the  place 
by  escalade,  which  part  of  the  army  attempted  con- 


852  ,   Ccesar, 

trary  to  orders.  They  fought  with  more  than  their 
usual  gallantry.  The  whole  scene  was  visible  from 
the  adjoining  hills,  the  Celtic  women,  with  long, 
streaming  hair,  wildly  gesticulating  on  the  walls. 
The  Romans  were  driven  back  with  worse  loss  than 
they,  had  yet  met  with  in  Gaul.  Forty-six  officers 
and  seven  hundred  men  had  been  killed. 

Caesar  was  never  more  calm  than  under  a  reverse. 
He  addressed  the  legions  the  next  day.  He  compli- 
mented their  courage,  but  he  said  it  was  for  the  geji- 
eral  and  not  for  them  to  judge  when  assaults  should 
be  tried.  He  saw  the  facts  of  the  situation  exactly  as 
they  were.  His  army  was  divided.  Labienus  was 
far  away  with  a  separate  command.  The  whole  of 
Gaul  was  in  flames.  To  persevere  at  Gergovia  would 
only  be  obstinacy,  and  he  accepted  the  single  military 
failure  which  he  met  with  when  present  in  person 
through  the  whole  of  his  Gallic  campaign. 

Difficulties  of  all  kinds  were  now  thickening.  Cae- 
sar had  placed  magazines  in  Nevers,  and  had  trusted 
them  to  an  iEduan  garrison.  The  jEduans  burnt  the 
town  and  carried  the  stores  over  the  Loire  to  their 
own  strongest  fortress,  Bibracte  (Mont  Beauvray). 
The  river  had  risen  from  the  melting  of  the  snows,  and 
could  not  be  crossed  without  danger ;  and  to  feed  the 
army  in  its  present  position  was  no  longer  possible. 
To  retreat  upon  the  province  would  be  a  confession 
of  defeat.  The  passes  of  the  Cevennes  would  be 
swarming  with  enemies,  and  Labienus  with  his  four 
legions  in  the  west  might  be  cut  off.  With  swifb  de- 
cision he  marched  day  and  night  to  the  Loire..  He 
found  a  ford  where  the  troops  could  cross  with  the 
water  at  their  armpits.  He  sent  his  horse  over  and 
cleared  the  banks.     The  array  passed  safely.     Food 


Labienus  on  the  Seine,  853 

enough  and  in  plenty  was  found  in  the  ^duans'  coun- 
try, and  without  waiting  he  pressed  on  towards  Sens 
to  reunite  his  forces.  He  understood  the  Gauls,  and 
foresaw  what  must  have  happened. 

Labienus,  when  sent  on  his  separate  command,  had 
made  Sens  his  head-quarters.  All  down  the  Seine 
the  country  was  in  insurrection.  Leaving  the  new 
Italian  levies  at  the  station,  he  went  with  his  experi- 
enced troops  down  the  left  bank  of  the  river  till  he 
came  to  the  Essonne.  He  found  the  Gauls  in 
trenched  on  the  other  side,  and,  without  attempting 
to  force  the  passage,  he  marched  back  to  Melun, 
w^here  he  repaired  a  bridge  which  the  Gauls  had 
broken,  crossed  over,  and  descended  without  interrup- 
tion to  Paris.  The  town  had  been  burnt,  and  the 
enemy  were  watching  him  from  the  further  bank. 
At  this  moment  he  heard  of  the  retreat  from  Ger^o- 

o 

via,  and  of  the  rebellion  of  the  ^Edui.  Such  news, 
he  understood  at  once,  would  be  followed  b}^  a  rising 
in  Belgium.  Report  had  said  that  CcBsar  was  falling 
back  on  the  province.  He  did  not  believe  it.  Csesar, 
he  knew,  would  not  desert  him.  His  own  duty,  there- 
fore, was  to  make  his  way  back  to  Sens.  But  to 
leave  the  army  of  Gauls  to  accompany  his  retreat 
across  the  Seine,  with  the  tribes  rising  on  all  sides, 
"was  to  expose  himself  to  the  certainty  of  being  inter- 
cepted. "  In  these  sudden  difficulties,"  says  Caesar, 
"he  took  counsel  from  the  valor  of  his  mind."^  He 
had  brought  a  fleet  of  barges  with  him  from  Melun. 
These  he  sent  down  unperceived  to  a  point  at  the 
bend  of  the  river  four  miles  below  Paris,  and  directed 
them  to  wait  for  him  there.     When  night  fell  he  de- 

1  "  Tantis  subito  difficultatibus  objectls  ab  animi  virtute  consilium  pe- 
kebat." 

23 


354  Coesar. 

tached  a  few  cohorts  with  orders  to  go  np  the  river 
with  boats  as  if  they  were  retreating,  splashing  their 
oars,  and  making  as  much  noise  as  possible.  He  liim- 
self  with  three  legions  stole  silently  in  the  darkness 
to  h:s  barges,  and  passed  over  without  being  observed. 
The  Gauls,  supposing  the  whole  army  to  be  in  flight 
for  Sens,  were  breaking  up  their  camp  to  follow  ia 
boisterous  confusion.  Labienus  fell  upon  them,  tell- 
ing the  Romans  to  fight  as  if  Csesar  was  present  in 
person ;  and  the  courage  with  which  the  Gauls  foughl 
in  their  surprise  only  made  the  overthrow  more  com- 
plete. The  insurrection  in  the  northwest  was  for  the 
moment  paralyzed,  and  Labienus,  secured  by  his  in- 
genious and  brilliant  victory,  returned  to  his  quarters 
without  further  accident.  There  Csesar  came  to  him 
as  he  expected,  and  the  army  was  once  more  to- 
gether. 

Meanwhile  the  failure  at  Gergovia  had  kindled  the 
enthusiasm  of  tha  central  districts  into  white  heat. 
The  JEdui,  the  most  powerful  of  all  the  tribes,  were 
now  at  one  with  their  countrymen,  and  Bibracte  be- 
came the  focus  of  the  national  army.  The  young 
Vercingetorix  was  elected  sole  commander,  and  his 
plan,  as  before,  was  to  starve  the  Romans  out.  FI3"- 
ing  bodies  harassed  the  borders  of  the  province,  so 
that  no  reinforcements  could  reach  them  from  the 
south.  Csesar,  however,  amidst  his  conquests  had  the 
art  of  making  staunch  friends.  What  the  province 
could  not  supply  he  obtained  from  his  allies  across 
the  Rhine,  and  he  furnished  himself  with  bodies  of 
German  cavalry,  wliich  when  mounted  on  Roman 
horses  proved  invaluable.  In  the  new  form  which 
the  insurrection  had  assumed  the  iEdui  were  the  first 
tc  be  attended  to.     Coesar  advanced  leisurely  upon 


Alesia,  355 

them,  through  the  high  country  at  the  rise  of  the 
Seine  and  the  Marne,  towards  Alesia,  or  Alice  St. 
Reine.  Vercingetorix  watched  him  at  ten  miles'  dis- 
tance. He  supposed  him  to  be  making  for  the  prov- 
ince, and  his  intention  was  that  Caesar  should  never 
reach  it.  The  Celts  at  all  times  have  been  fond  of 
emphatic  protestations.  The  young  heroes  swore  a 
solemn  oath  that  they  would  not  see  wife  or  children 
or  parents  more  till  they  had  ridden  twice  through 
the  Roman  army.  In  this  mood  they  encountered 
Caesar  in  the  valley  of  the  Vingeanne,  a  river  which 
falls  into  the  Sac>ne,  and  they  met  the  fate  which 
necessarily  befell  them  when  their  ungovernable  mul- 
titudes engaged  the  legions  in  the  open  field.  They 
were  defeated  with  enormous  loss :  not  they  riding 
through  the  Roman  army,  but  themselves  ridden  over 
and  hewn  down  by  the  German  horsemen  and  sent 
flying  for  fifty  miles  over  the  hills  into  Alice  St. 
Reine.  Caesar  followed  close  behind,  driving  Vercin- 
getorix under  the  lines  of  the  fortress ;  and  the  siege 
of  Alesia,  one  of  the  most  remarkable  exploits  in  all 
military  history,  was  at  once  undertaken. 

Alesia,  like  Gergovia,  is  on  a  hill  sloping  off  all 
round,  with  steep  and,  in  places,  precipitous  sides. 
It  lies  between  two  small  rivers,  the  Ose  and  the 
Oserain,  both  of  which  fall  into  the  Brenne  and 
thence  into  the  Seine.  Into  this  peninsula,  with  the 
rivers  on  each  side  of  him,  Vercingetorix  had  thrown 
himself  with  eighty  thousand  men.  Alesia  as  a  po- 
sition was  impregnable  except  to  famine.  The  water- 
supply  was  secure.  The  position  was  of  extraordi- 
nary strength.  The  rivers  formed  natural  trenches. 
Below  the  town  to  the  east  they  ran  parallel  for 
three  miles  through  an  open  alluvial  plain  before  thej 


356  ,      Ccesar, 

reached  the  Brenne.  In  every  other  direction  4.ose 
rocky  hills  of  equal  height  with  the  central  plateau, 
originally  perhaps  one  wide  tableland,  through  which 
the  waters  had  ploughed  out  the  valleys.  To  attack 
Vercingetorix  where  he  had  placed  himself  was  cut 
of  the  question ;  but  to  blockade  him  there,  to  cap~ 
ture  the  leader  of  the  insurrection  and  his  whole 
army,  and  so  in  one  blow  make  an  end  with  it,  on  a 
survey  of  the  situation  seemed  not  impossible.  The 
Gauls  had  thought  of  nothing  less  than  of  being  be- 
sieged. The  provisions  laid  in  could  not  be  consider- 
able, and  so  enormous  a  multitude  could  not  hold  out 
many  days. 

At  once  the  legions  were  set  to  work  cutting 
trenches  or  building  walls  as  the  form  of  the  ground 
allowed.  Camps  were  formed  at  different  spots,  and 
twenty-three  strong  blockhouses  at  the  points  which 
were  least  defensible.  The  lines  where  the'  circuit 
was  completed  were  eleven  miles  long.  The  part 
most  exposed  was  the  broad  level  meadow  which 
spread  out  to  the  west  towards  the  Brenne  river. 
Vercingetorix  had  looked  on  for  a  time,  not  under- 
standing what  was  happening  to  him.  When  he  did 
understand  it,  he  made  desperate  efforts  on  his  side  to 
break  the  net  before  it  closed  about  him.  But  he 
could  do  notliing.  The  Gauls  could  not  be  brought 
to  face  the  Roman  intrenchments.  Their  cavalry 
were  cut  to  pieces  by  the  German  horse.  The  only 
Lope  was  from  help  without,  and  before  the  lines 
were  entirely  finished  horsemen  were  sent  out  with 
orders  to  ride  for  their  lives  into  every  district  in 
Gaul  and  raise  the  entire  nation.  The  crisis  had 
come.  If  the  countrymen  of  Vercingetorix  wrre. 
worthy  of  their  fathers,  if  the  enthusiasm  with  which 


Alesia.  857 

they  had  risen  for  freedom  was  not  a  mere  emotion, 
but  the  expression  of  a  real  purpose,  their  young 
leader  called  on  them  to  come  now,  every  man  of 
them,  and  seize  Cassar  in  the  trap  into  which  he  had 
betrayed  himself.  If,  on  the  other  hand,  they  were 
careless,  if  they  allowed  him  and  his  eighty  thousand 
men  to  perish  without  an  effort  to  save  them,  the  in- 
dependence which  they  had  ceased  to  deserve  would 
be  lost  forever.  He  had  food,  he  bade  the  messen- 
gers say,  for  thirty  days  ;  by  thrifty  management  it 
might  be  made  to  last  a  few  days  longer.  In  thirty 
days  he  should  look  for  relief. 

The  horsemen  sped  away  like  the  bearers  of  the 
fiery  cross.  Csesar  learnt  from  deserters  that  they 
had  gone  out,  and  understood  the  message  which  they 
carried.  Already  he  was  besieging  an  army  far  out- 
numbering his  own.  If  he  persevered,  he  knew  that 
he  might  count  with  certainty  on  being  attacked  by 
a  second  army  immeasurably  larger.  But  the  time 
allowed  for  the  collection  of  so  many  men  might  also 
serve  to  prepare  for  their  reception.  Vercingetorix 
said  rightly  that  the  Romans  won  their  victories,  not 
by  superior  courage,  but  by  superior  science.  The 
same  power  of  measuring  the  exact  facts  of  the  situa- 
tion which  determined  CcSsar  to  raise  the  siege  of 
Gergovia  decided  him  to  hold  on  at  Alesia.  He 
knew  exactly,  to  begin  with,  how  long  Vercingetorix 
could  hold  out.  It  was  easy  for  him  to  collect  pro- 
visions within  his  lines  which  would  feed  his  own 
army  a  few  days  longer.  Fortifications  the  same  in 
kind  as  those  which  prevented  the  besieged  from 
breaking  out  would  equally  serve  to  keep  the  assail- 
ants off.  His  plan  was  to  make  a  second  line  of 
works  —  an  exterior  line  as  well  as  an  interior  line  j 


358  Ccesar. 

and  as  the  extent  to  be  defended  would  thus  bft 
doubled,  he  made  them  of  a  peculiar  construction,  to 
enable  one  man  to  do  the  work  of  two.  There  is  no 
occasion  to  describe  the  rows  of  ditches,  dry  and  wet , 
the  staked  pitfalls,  the  cervi,  pronged  instrumenta 
like  the  branching  horns  of  a  stag ;  the  stimuli, 
barbed  spikes  treacherously  concealed  to  impale  the 
unwary  and  hold  him  fast  when  caught,  with  which 
the  ground  was  sown  in  irregular  rows  ;  the  vallus 
and  the  lorica,  and  all  the  varied  contrivances  of  Ho- 
man  engineering  genius.  Military  students  will  read 
the  particulars  for  themselves  in  Csesar's  own  lan- 
guage. Enough  that  the  work  was  done  within  tlie 
time,  with  the  legions  in  perfect  good  humor,  and 
giving  jesting  names  to  the  new  instruments  of  tor- 
ture as  Csesar  invented  them.  Vercingetorix  now 
and  then  burst  out  on  the  working  parties,  but  pro- 
duced no  effect.  They  knew  what  they  were  to  ex- 
pect when  the  thirty  days  were  out ;  but  they  knew 
their  commander,  and  had  absolute  confidence  in  his 
judgment. 

Meanwhile,  on  all  sides,  the  Gauls  were  respond- 
ing to  the  call.  From  every  quarter,  even  from  far- 
off  parts  of  Belgium,  horse  and  foot  Were  streaming 
along  the  roads.  Commius  of  Arras,  Ca3sai-'s  old 
friend,  who  had  gone  with  him  to  Britain,  was 
caught  with  the  same  frenzy,  and  was  hastening 
among  the  rest  to  help  to  end  him.  At  last  two 
hundred  and  fifty  thousand  of  the  best  fighting  men 
that  Gaul  could  produce  had  collected  at  the  ap- 
pointed rendezvous,  and  advanced  with  the  easy  con- 
viction that  the  mere  impulse  of  so  mighty  a  force 
would  sweep  Caesar  off  the  earth.  They  were  late 
in  arriving.     The  thirty  days  had  passed,  and  there 


Alesia,  359 

were  no  signs  of  the  coming  deliverers.  Eager  e3^e3 
were  straining  froQi  the  heights  of  tlie  plateau  ;  but 
nothing  was  seen  save  the  tents  of  the  h^gions  or  the 
busy  units  of  men  at  work  on  the  walls  and  trenches. 
Anxious  debates  were  held  among  the  beleaguered 
chiefs.  The  faint-hearted  wished  to  surrender  before 
they  were  starved.  Others  were  in  favor  of  a  des- 
perate effort  to  cut  their  way  through  or  die.  One 
speech  Caesar  preserves  for  its  remarkable  and  fright- 
ful ferocity.  A  prince  of  Auvergne  said  that  the 
Romans  conquered  to  enslave  and  beat  down  the 
laws  and  liberties  of  free  nations  under  the  lictors' 
axes,  and  he  proposed  that  sooner  than  yield  they 
should  kill  and  eat  those  who  were  useless  for  fight- 
ing. 

Vercingetorix  was  of  noble  nature.  To  prevent 
the  adoption  of  so  horrible  an  expedient,  he  ordered 
the  peaceful  inhabitants,  with  their  wives  and  chil- 
dren, to  leave  the  town.  Ciesar  forbade  them  to  pass 
his  lines.  Cruel  —  but  war  is  cruel  ;  and  where  a 
garrison  is  to  be  reduced  by  famine  the  laws  of  it  are 
inexorable. 

But  the  day  of  expected  deliverance  dawned  at 
last.  Five  miles  beyond  the  Brenne  the  dust-clouds 
of  the  approaching  host  were  seen,  and  then  the  glit- 
ter of  their  lances  and  their  waving  pennons.  They 
swam  the  river.  They  filled  the  plain  below  the 
town.  From  the  heights  of  Alesia  the  whole  scene 
lay  spread  under  the  feet  of  the  besieged.  Vercin- 
getorix came  down  on  the  slope  to  the  edge  of  the 
first  trench,  prepared  to  cross  when  the  turn  of  bat- 
tle should  give  him  a  chance  to  strike.  Ciesar  sent 
out  his  German  horse,  and  stood  himself  watcliing 
from  the  spur  of  an  adjoining  hill.     The  Gauls  had 


860  Ccemr, 

broiiglit  innumerable  archers  witli  them.  The  horse 
flinched  slightly  under  the  showers  of  arrows,  and 
shouts  of  triumph  rose  from  the  lines  of  the  town  ; 
but  the  Germans  rallied  again,  sent  the  cavalry  of  tlie 
Gauls  flying,  and  hewed  down  the  unprotected  arch- 
ers. Vercingetorix  fell  back  sadly  to  his  camp  on 
the  hill,  and  then  for  a  day  there  was  a  pause.  The 
relieving  army  had  little  food  with  them,  and  if  they 
acted  at  all  must  act  quickly.  They  spread  over  the* 
country  collecting  faggots  to  flU  the  trenches,  and 
making  ladders  to  storm  the  walls.  At  midnight 
they  began  their  assault  on  the  lines  in  the  plain  ; 
and  Vercingetorix,  hearing  by  the  cries  that  the  work 
had  begun,  gave  his  own  signal  for  a  general  sally. 
The  Roman  arrangements  had  been  completed  long 
before.  Every  man  knew  his  post.  The  slings,  the 
crossbows,  the  scorpions  were  all  at  hand  and  in  or- 
der. Mark  Antony  and  Caius  Trebonius  had  each 
a  flying  division  under  them  to  carry  help  where  the 
pressure  was  most  severe.  The  Gauls  were  caught 
on  the  cervi,  impaled  on  the  stimuli,  and  fell  in  heaps 
under  the  bolts  and  balls  which  were  poured  from  the 
walls.  They  could  make  no  impression,  and  fell 
back  at  daybreak  beaten  and  dispirited.  Vercinget- 
orix had  been  unable  even  to  pass  the  moats  and 
trenches,  and  did  nol;  come  into  action  till  his  friends 
had  abandoned  the  attack. 

The  Gauls  had  not  yet  taken  advantage  of  their 
enormous  numbers.  Defeated  on  the  level  ground, 
they  next  tried  the  heights.  The  Romans  were  dis- 
tributed in  a  ring  now  fourteen  miles  in  extent.  On 
the  north  side,  beyond  the  Ose,  the  works  were  in- 
complete, owing  to  the  nature  of  the  ground,  and 
tiieir  lines  lay  on  the  slope  of  the  hills  descending  to- 


Battle  before  Alesia,  861 

wards  the  river.  Sixty  thousand  picked  men  left  the 
Gauls'  camp  before  dawn  ;  they  stole  round  by  a  dis- 
tant route,  and  were  allowed  to  rest  concealed  in  a 
valley  till  the  middle  of  the  day.  At  noon  they  came 
over  the  ridge  at  the  Romans'  back ;  and  they  had 
the  best  of  the  position,  being  able  to  attack  from 
above.  Their  appearance  was  the  signal  for  a  gen- 
eral assault  on  all  sides,  and  for  a  determined  sally 
by  Vercingetorix  from  within.  Thus  before,  behind, 
and  everywhere,  the  legions  were  assailed  at  the  same 
moment ;  and  Csesar  observes  that  the  cries  of  battle 
in  the  rear  are  always  more  trying  to  men  than  the 
fiercest  onset  upon  them  in  front ;  because  what  they 
cannot  see  they  imagine  more  formidable  than  it  is, 
and  they  depend  for  their  own  safety  on  the  courage 
of  others. 

Csesar  had  taken  his  stand  where  he  could  com- 
mand the  whole  action.  There  was  no  smoke  in 
those  engagements,  and  the  scene  was  transparently 
visible.  Both  sides  felt  that  the  deciding  trial  had 
come.  In  the  plain  the  Gauls  made  no  more  impres- 
sion than  on  the  preceding  day.  At  the  weak  point 
on  the  north  the  Romans  were  forced  back  down  the 
slope,  and  could  not  hold  their  positions.  Csesar  saw 
it,  and  sent  Labienus  with  six  cohorts  to  their  help. 
Vercingetorix  had  seen  it  also,  and  attacked  the  in- 
terior lines  at  the  same  spot.  Decimus  Brutus  was 
then  dispatched  also,  and  then  Caius  Fabius.  Fi- 
nally, when  the  fighting  grew  desperate,  he  left  his 
own  station ;  he  called  up  the  reserves  which  had  not 
yet  been  engaged,  and  he  rode  across  the  field,  con- 
spicuous in  his  scarlet  dress  and  with  his  bare  head, 
cheering  on  the  men  as  he  passed  each  point  where 
thby  were  engaged,  and  hastening  to  the  scene  inhere 


862  Ccesar. 

the  chief  danger  lay.  He  sent  round  a  few  squ  idrona 
of  horse  to  the  back  of  the  hills  which  the  Gauls  had 
crossed  in  the  morning.  He  himself  joined  Labienns. 
Wherever  he  went  he  carried  enthusiasm  along  with 
him.  The  legionaries  flung  away  their  darts  and 
rushed  upon  the  enemy  sword  in  hand.  The  cavalry 
appeared  above  on  the  heights.  The  Gauls  wavered, 
broke,  and  scattered.  The  German  horse  were  among 
them,  hewing  down  the  brave  but  now  helpless  patriots 
who  had  come  with  such  high  hopes  and  had  fought  so 
gallantly.  Out  of  the  sixty  thousand  that  had  sallied 
forth  in  the  morning,  all  but  a  draggled  remnant  lay 
dead  on  the  hill-sides.  Seventy-four  standards  were 
brought  in  to  Csesar.  The  besieged  retired  into 
Alice  again  in  despair.  The  vast  hosts  that  Avere  to 
have  set  them  free  melted  away.  In  the  morning 
they  were  streaming  over  the  country,  making  back 
for  their  homes,  with  CiEsar's  cavalry  behind  them, 
cutti ug  them  down  and  capturing  them  in  thousands. 

The  work  was  done.  The  most  daring  feat  in  the 
military  annals  of  mankind  had  been  successfully  ac- 
complished. A  Roman  army  which  could  not  at  the 
utmost  have  amounted  to  fifty  thousand  men  had  held 
blockaded  an  army  of  eighty  thousand  —  not  weak 
Asiatics,  but  European  soldiers,  as  strong  and  as 
brave  individually  as  the  Italians  were ;  and  they 
had  defeated,  beaten,  and  annihilated  another  army 
which  had  come  expecting  to  overwhelm  them,  five 
times  as  large  as  their  own. 

Seeing  that  all  was  over,  Vercingetorix  called  the 
chiefs  about  him.  He  had  gone  into  the  war,  he 
said,  for  no  object  of  his  own,  but  for  the  liberty  of 
his  country.  Fortune  had  gone  against  him  ;  and  he 
advised  them  to  make  their  peace,  either  by  killing 


Defeat  of  the  G^auU.  863 

him  and  sending  his  head  to  the  conqueror  or  by  de- 
livering him  up  alive.  A  humble  message  of  sub- 
mission was  dispatched  to  Csesar.  He  demanded  an 
unconditional  surrender,  and  the  Gauls,  starving  and 
hopeless,  obeyed.  The  Roman  general  sat  amidst 
the  works  in  front  of  the  camp  while  the  chiefs  one 
by  one  were  produced  before  him.  The  brave  Ver- 
cingetorix,  as  noble  in  his  calamnity  as  Csesar  himself 
in  his  success,  was  reserved  to  be  shown  in  triumph 
to  the  populace  of  Rome.  The  whole  of  his  army 
were  prisoners  of  war.  The  -^dui  and  Arverni 
among  them  were  set  aside,  and  were  dismissed  after 
a  short  detention  for  political  reasons.  The  remain- 
der were  sold  to  the  contractors,  and  the  proceeds 
were  distributed  as  prize-money  among  the  legions. 
Cassar  passed  the  winter  at  Bibracte,  receiving  the 
submission  of  the  chiefs  of  the  JEdui  and  of  the 
Auvergne.  Wounds  received  in  war  soon  heal  if  gen- 
tle measures  follow  a  victory.  If  tried  by  the  man- 
ners of  his  age,  Caesar  was  the  most  merciful  of  con- 
querors. His  high  aim  was,  not  to  enslave  the  Gauls, 
but  to  incorporate  them  in  the  Empire;  to  extend  the 
privileges  of  Roman  citizens  among  them  and  among 
all  the  undegenerate  races  of  the  European  provinces. 
He  punished  no  one.  He  was  gracious  and  consid- 
erate to  all,  and  he  so  impressed  the  central  tribes  by 
his  judgment  and  his  moderation  that  they  served 
him  faithfully  in  all  his  coming  troubles,  and  never 
more,  even  in  the  severest  temptation,  made  an  effjrt 
to  recover  their  independence. 

Much,  however,  remained  to  be  done.     The  insur- 
rection had  shaken  the  whole  of  Gaul.    The    „  ^  „ 

.  .      .        .  ,  B.  c.  61. 

viistant   tribes   had    all   joined  in  it,  either 

actively  or  by  sympathy ;  and  the  patriots  who  had 


864  Cmar, 

seized  the  control  despairing  of  pardon,  thought  thtiii* 
only  hope  was  in  keeping  rebellion  alive.  During 
winter  they  believed  themselves  secure.  The  Car- 
nutes  of  the  Euro  and  Loire,  under  a  new  chief 
named  Gutruatus,^  and  the  Bituriges,  untaught  by 
or  savage  at  the  fate  of  Bourses,  were  still  defiant. 
When  the  winter  was  at  its  deepest,  Csesar  suddenly 
appeared  across  the  Loire.  He  caught  the  country- 
people  unprepared,  and  captured  them  in  their  farms. 
The  swiftness  of  his  marches  baffled  alike  flight  and 
resistance  ;  he  crushed  the  whole  district  down,  and 
he  was  again  at  his  quarters  in  forty  days.  As  a  re- 
ward to  the  men  who  had  followed  him  so  cheerfully 
in  the  cold  January  campaign,  he  gave  each  private 
legionary  200  sesterces  and  each  centurion  2,000. 
Eighteen  days'  rest  was  all  that  he  allowed  himself, 
and  with  fresh  troops,  and  in  storm  and  frost,  he 
started  for  the  Carnutes.  The  rebels  were  to  have 
no  rest  till  they  submitted.  The  Bellovaci  were  now 
out  also.  The  Remi  alone  of  all  the  Gauls  had  con- 
tinued faithful  in  the  rising  of  Vercingetorix.  The 
Bellovaci,  led  by  Commius  of  Arras,  were  preparing 
to  burn  the  territory  of  the  Remi  as  a  punishment. 
Commius  was  not  as  guilty,  perhaps,  as  he  seemed. 
Labienus  had  suspected  him  of  intending  mischief 
when  he  was  on  the  Seine  in  the  past  summer,  and 
had  tried  to  entrap  and  kill  him.  Anyway  Csesar's 
first  object  was  to  show  the  Gauls  that  no  friends  of 
Rome  would  be  allowed  to  suffer.  He  invaded  Nor- 
mandy ;  he  swept  the  country.  He  drove  the  Bello- 
vaci and  the  Carnutes  to  collect  in  another  great 
army  to  defend  themselves ;  he  set  upon  them  with 
his  usual  skill,  and  destroyed  them.  Commius  es» 
1  Gudrund  ?    The  word  has  a  German  sound. 


Final  Suppression  of  the  Revolt,  365 

caped  over  the  Rhine  to  Germany.  Gutruatus  was 
taken.  Cassar  would  have  pardoned  him  ;  but  the 
legions  were  growing  savagY»  at  these  repeated  and 
useless  commotions,  and  insisted  on  his  execution. 
The  poor  wretch  was  flogged  till  he  was  insensible, 
and  his  head  was  cut  oif  by  the  lictor's  axe. 

All  Gaul  was  now  submisssive,  its  spirit  broken, 
and,  as  the  event  proved,  broken  finally,  except  in 
the  southwest.  Eight  years  out  of  the  ten  of  Caesar's 
government  had  expired.  In  one  corner  of  the  coun- 
try only  the  dream  still  survived  that  if  the  patriots 
could  hold  out  till  CsBsar  was  gone,  Celtic  liberty 
might  yet  have  a  chance  of  recovering  itself.  A  sin- 
gle tribe  on  the  Dordogne,  relying  on  the  strength  of 
a  fortress  in  a  situation  resembling  that  of  Gergovia, 
persisted  in  resistance  to  the  Roman  authority.  The 
spirit  of  national  independence  is  like  a  fire :  so  long 
as  a  spark  remains  a  conflagration  can  again  be 
kindled,  and  Csesar  felt  that  he  must  trample  out  the 
last  ember  that  was  alive.  Uxellodunum  —  so  the 
place  was  named  —  stood  on  an  inaccessible  rock, 
and  was  amply  provisioned.  It  could  be  taken  only 
as  Edinburgh  Castle  was  once  taken,  by  cutting  off 
its  water ;  and  the  ingenious  tunnel  may  still  be  seen 
by  which  the  Roman  engineers  tapped  the  spring 
that  supplied  the  garrison.  They,  too,  had  then  to 
yield,  and  the  war  in  Gaul  was  over. 

The  following  winter  Caesar  spent  at  Arras.  He 
wished  to  hand  over  his  conquests  to  his  successor 
not  only  subdued  but  reconciled  to  subjection.  He 
invited  the  chiefs  of  all  the  tribes  to  come  to  him. 
He  spoke  to  them  of  the  future  which  lay  open  to 
them  as  members  of  a  splendid  Imperial  State.  He 
gave  them  magnificent  presents.     He  laid  no  impos.' 


360  Ccesar. 

tions  either  on  the  leaders  or  their  people,  and  they 
went  to  their  homes  personally  devoted  to  their  con- 
qneror,  contented  with  their  condition,  and  resolved 
to  maintain  the  peace  which  was  now  ostablislied  —  a 
unique  experience  in  political  history.  The  Norman 
Conquest  of  England  alone  in  the  least  resembles  it. 
In  the  spring  of  60  Csesar  went  to  Ital}^  Strange 
things  had  happened  meanwhile  in  Rome.  So  long 
as  there  was  a  hope  that  Caesar  would  be  destroyed 
by  the  insurrection  the  ill-minded  Senate  had  waited 
to  let  the  Gauls  do  the  work  for  him.  The  chance 
was  gone.  He  had  risen  above  his  perils  more  brill- 
iant than  ever,  and  nothing  now  \vas  left  to  them 
but  to  defy  and  trample  on  him.  Servius  Galba,  who 
was  favorable  to  Caisar,  had  stood  for  the  consulship 
for  49,  and  had  received  a  majority  of  votes.  The 
election  was  set  aside.  Two  patricians,  Lentulus  and 
Caius  JMarcellus,  were  declared  chosen,  and  their 
avowed  purpose  was  to  strip  the  conqueror  of  Gaul 
of  his  honors  and  rewards.^     The  people  of 

.  B    C    50 

his  own  Cisalpine  Province  desired  to  show 
that  they  at  least  had  no  sympathy  with  such  enven- 
omed animosities.  In  the  colonies  in  Lombardy  and 
Venetia  Caesar  was  received  with  the  most  passionate 
demonstrations  of  affection.  The  towns  were  dressed 
out  with  flags  and  flowers.  The  inhabitants  crowded 
into  the  streets  with  their  wives  and  children  to  look 
at  him  as  he  passed.  The  altars  smoked  with  offer- 
ings ;  the  temples  were  thronged  with  worshippers 
graying  the  immortal  gods  to   bless  the  greatest  of 

1  "  Iiipolenter  acTversarii  sui  gloriabantur  L.  Lentuhun  ^  C.  IMarcelliim 
consules  creates,  qui  omnem  lionorem  et  dignitatem  Ctesaris  exepoliarent. 
Ereptiini  Servio  Galbte  consulatiini  cum  is  miilto  plus  gratia  suffrai^iisque 
valuisset,  quod  sibi  coujunctus  et  familiaritate  et  uecessitudine  legaiionia 
L."  —Auli  Hirtii  De  Bell.  Gall.  viii.  50. 


State  of  Feeling  in  Italy.  367 

the  Romans.  He  had  yet  one  more  year  to  govern. 
After  a  brief  stay  he  rejoined  his  army.  He  spent  the 
summer  in  organizing  the  administration  of  the  dif- 
ferent districts  and  assigning  his  officers  their  various 
commands.  That  he  did  not  at  this  time  contemplate 
any  violent  interference  with  the  Constitution  may 
be  proved  by  the  distribution  of  his  legions,  which 
remained  stationed  far  away  in  Belgium  and  on  the 
Loire. 


CHAPTER  XX. 

Cbassus  had  been  destroj^ed  by  the  Parthians.^ 
The  nomination  of  his  successor  lay  with 
the  Senate,  and  the  Senate  gave  a  notable 
evidence  of  their  incapacity  for  selecting  competent 
governors  for  the  provinces  by  appointing  in  his  place 
Caesar's  old  colleague,  Bibulus.  In  their  whole  num- 
ber there  was  no  such  fool  as  Bibulus.  When  he  ar- 
rived in  Syria  he  shut  himself  into  a  fortified  town, 
leaving  the  Parthians  to  plunder  and  burn  at  their 
pleasure.  Cicero  mocked  at  him.  The  Senate 
thanked  him  for  his  distinguished  services.  The  few 
serious  men  in  Rome  thought  that  Caesar  or  Pompey 
should  be  sent  out ;  ^  or,  if  they  could  not  be  spared, 
at  least  one  of  the  consuls  of  the  year  —  Sulpicius 
Rufus  or  Marcus  Marcellus.  But  the  consuls  were 
busy  with  home  politics  and  did  not  wish  to  go, 
nor  did  they  wish  that  others  should  go  and  gather 
laurels  instead  of  them.  Therefore  nothing  was  done 
at  all,2  and  Syria  was  left  to  fate  and  Bibulus.  The 
consuls  and  the  aristocracy  had,  in  fact,  more  serious 
matters  to  attend  to.  Caesar's  time  was  running  out, 
and  when  it  was  over  he  had  been  promised  the  con- 
sulship. That  consulship  the  faction  of  the  Con- 
servatives had  sworn  that  he  should  never  hold. 
Cato  was  threatening  him  with  impeachment,  blus- 
tering that  he  should  be  tried  under  a  guard,  as  Mile 

1  "  C«!ius  ad  Ciceronem,"  Ad  Fam.  viii.  10.  *  Ibid. 


Fears  of  the  Ar-idocracy.  369 

had  been.i  Marcellus  was  saying  openly  that  he 
would  call  hina  home  in  disgrace  before  his  term  was 
over.  Como,  one  of  the  most  thriving  towns  in  the 
north  of  Italy,  had  been  enfranchised  by  Csesar.  An 
eminent  citizen  from  Como  happening  to  be  at  Rome, 
Marcellus  publicly  flogged  him,  and  bade  him  go  back 
and  tell  his  fellow-townsmen  the  value  of  Caesar's 
gift  to  them.  Cicero  saw  the  folly  of  such  actions  ;  ^ 
but  the  aristocracy  were  mad  —  mad  with  pride  and 
conscious  guilt  and  fear.  The  ten  years  of  Csesar's 
government  would  expire  at  the  end  of  49.  The  en- 
gagement had  been  entered  into  that  he  was  to  see 
his  term  out  with  his  army  and  to  return  to  Rome 
for  48  —  as  consul.  They  remembered  his  first  con- 
sulship and  what  he  had  done  with  it,  and  the  laws 
which  he  had  passed  —  laws  which  they  could  not  re- 
peal ;  yet  how  h-ad  they  observed  them  ?  If  he  had 
been  too  strong  for  them  all  when  he  was  but  one  of 
themselves,  scarcely  known  beyond  the  Forum  and 
Senate-house,  what  .vould  he  do  now,  when  he  was 
recognized  as  the  greatest  soldier  which  Rome  had 
produced,  the  army,  the  people,  Italy,  the  provinces 
all  adoring  his  name?  Consul  again  he  could  not, 
must  not  be.  Yet  how  could  it  be  prevented  ?  It 
was  useless  now  to  bribe  the  Comitia,  to  work  with 
clubs  and  wire-pullers.  The  enfranchised  citizens 
would  come  to  vote  for  Caesar  from  every  country 
town.  The  legionaries  to  a  man  would  vote  for  him ; 
and  even  in  the  venal  city  he  was  the  idol  of  the 
hour.  No  fault  could  be  found  with  his  administra- 
tion.    His  wars  had  paid  their  own  expenses.     He 

1  Suetonius,  De  Vita  Julii  CoBsaris. 

2  "Marcellus  foede  de  Comensi,  Etsi  ille  magistratum  non  gesserat, 
erat  tamen  Transpadanus.  Ita  mihi  videtur  non  minus  stomachi  nostro  M 
Cttsaii  fecisse."  —  To  Atticus,  v.  11. 

24 


370  Ccesar. 

had  doubled  the  pay  of  his  troops,  but  his  military 
chest  was  still  full,  and  his  own  wealth  seemed 
boundless.  He  was  adorning  the  Forum  with  new 
and  costly  buildings.  Senators,  knights,  young  men 
of  rank  who  had  been  extravagant,  had  been  relieved 
by  his  generosity  and  were  his  pensioners.  Gaul 
might  liave  been  impatient  at  its  loss  of  liberty,  but 
no  word  of  complaint  was  hCard  against  Cassar  for 
oppressive  government.  The  more  genius  he  had 
shown  the  more  formidable  he  was.  Let  him  be  con- 
sul, and  he  would  be  the  master  of  them  all. 

Csesar  has  been  credited  with  far-reaching  designs. 
It  has  been  assumed  that  in  early  life  he  had  designed 
the  overthrow  of  the  constitution  ;  that  he  pursued 
his  purpose  steadily  through  every  stage  in  his  career, 
and  that  he  sought  the  command  of  Gaul  only  to  ob- 
tain an  army  devoted  to  him  which  would  execute 
his  will.  It  has  not  seemed  incredible  that  a  man  of 
middle  age  undertook  the  conquest  o'f  a  country  of 
which  nothing  was  known  save  that  it  was  inhabited 
by  warlike  races,  who  more  than  once  had  threatened 
to  overrun  Italy  and  destroy  Rome;  that  he  went 
through  ten  years  of  desperate  fighting  exposed  to  a 
thousand  dangers  from  the  sword,  from  exposure  and 
hardship ;  that  for  ten  years  he  had  banished  himself 
from  Rome,  uncertain  whether  he  would  ever  see  it 
again ;  and  that  he  had  ventured  upon  all  this  with 
no  other  object  than  that  of  eventually  controlling 
domestic  politics.  A  lunatic  might  have  entertained 
such  a  scheme,  but  not  a  Caesar.  The  Senate  knew 
him.  They  knew  what  he  had  done.  They  knew 
what  he  would  now  do,  and  for  this  reason  they  feared 
and  hated  him.  Csesar  was  a  reformer.  He  had  long 
Been  that  the  Roman  Constitution  was  too  narrow  for 


Ambition  of  Ccesar.  371 

the  functions  which  had  fallen  to  it,  and  that  it  was 
degenerating  into  an  instrument  of  tyranny  and  in- 
justice. The  courts  of  law  were  corrupt ;  the  elec- 
tions were  corrupt.  The  administration  of  the  prov- 
inces was  a  scandal  and  a  curse.  The  soil  of  Italy 
had  become  a  monopoly  of  capitalists,  and  the  inhab- 
itants of  it  a  population  of  slaves.  He  had  exerted 
himself  to  stay  the  mischie^Hit  its  fountain,  to  pun- 
ish bribery,  to  punish  the  rapacity  of  proconsuls  and 
pro-praetors,  to  purify  the  courts,  to  maintain  respect 
for  the  law.  He  had  endeavored  to  extend  the  fran- 
chise, to  raise  the  position  of  the  liberated  slaves,  tc» 
replace  upon  the  land  a  free  race  of  Roman  citizens. 
The  old  Roman  sentiment,  the  consciousness  of  the 
greatness  of  the  country  and  of  its  miglity  destinies, 
was  chiefly  now  to  be  found  in  the  armies.  In  the 
famihes  of  veteran  legionaries,  spread  in  farms  over 
Italy  and  the  provinces,  the  national  spirit  might  re- 
vive ;  and,  with  a  due  share  of  political  power  con- 
ceded \^o  them,  an  enlarged  and  purified  constituency 
might  control  the  votes  of  the  venal  populace  of  the 
city.  These  were  Caesar's  designs,  so  far  as  could 
have  been  gathered  from  his  earlier  actions  ;  but  the 
manipulation  of  elections,  the  miserable  contests  with 
disaffected  colleagues  and  a  hostile  Senate,  were  dreary 
occupations  for  such  a  man  as  he  was.-  He  was  con- 
scious of  powers  which  in  so  poor  a  sphere  could  find 
no  expression.  He  had  ambition  doubtless  —  plenty 
of  it  —  ambition  not  to  pass  away  without  leaving  his 
mark  on  the  history  of  his  country.  As  a  statesman 
ae  had  done  the  most  which  could'  be  done  when  he 
was  consul  the  first  time,  and  he  had  afterwards  sought 
a  free  field  for  his  adventurous  genius  in  a  new  coun- 
try, and  in  rounding  off  into  security  the  frontiers  of 


372  Ccesar. 

the  Empire  on  the  side  where  danger  was  most  threat- 
ening. The  proudest  self-confidence  could  not  have 
allowed  him  at  his  time  of  life  to  calculate  on  return- 
ing to  Rome  to  take  up  again  the  work  of  reforma- 
tion. 

But  Caesar  had  conquered.  He  had  made  a  name 
for  himself  as  a  soldier  before  which  the  Scipios  and 
the  Luculluses,  the  Syllas  and  Pompeys  paled  their 
glory.  He  was  coming  back  to  lay  at  his  country's 
feet  a  province  larger  than  Spain  —  not  subdued  only, 
but  reconciled  to  subjugation  ;  a  nation  of  warriors, 
as  much  devoted  to  him  as  his  own  legions.  The 
aristocracy  had  watched  his  progress  with  the  bitter- 
est malignity.  When  he  was  struggling  with  the  last 
spasms  of  Gallic  liberty,  they  had  talked  in  delighted 
whispers  of  his  reported  ruin.^  But  his  genius  had 
risen  above  his  difficulties  and  shone  out  more  glori- 
ous than  before.  When  the  war  was  over  the  Senate 
had  been  forced  to  vote  twenty  days  of  thanksgiving. 
Twenty  days  were  not  enough  for  Roman  enthusiasm. 
The  people  made  them  into  sixty. 

If  Caesar  came  to  Rome  as  consul,  the  Senate  knew 
too  well  what  it  might  expect.  What  he  had  been 
before  he  would  be  again,  but  more  severe,  as  his 
power  was  greater.  Their  own  guilty  hearts  perhaps 
made  them  fear  another  Marian  proscription.  Unless 
his  command  could  be  brought  to  an  end  in  some  far 
different  form,  their  days  of  power  were  numbered, 
and  the  days  of  inquiry  and  punishment  would  begin. 

Cicero  had  for  some  time  seen  what  was  coming, 

1  "  Quod  ad  Csesarem  crebri  et  non  belli  de  eo  rumores.     Sed  susurrato- 

icsdumtaxat  veniunt Neque  adhuc  certi  quidquam  est,  iieque 

axe  incerta  tamen  viilgo  jactantur.  Sed  inter  paucos,  quos  tu  nosti,  palata 
secreto  narrantur.  At  Domitius  cum  manus  ad  osapposuit!"  —  Celiiu 
to  Cicero,  Ad  Fam.  viii.  1. 


Senatorial  Intrigues.  373 

He  had  preferred  characteristically  to  be  out  of  the 
way  at  the  moment  when  he  expected  that  the  storm 
woidd  break,  and  had  accepted  the  government  of 
Cilicia  and  Cyprus.  He  was  thus  absent  while  the 
active  plot  was  in  preparation.  One  great  step  had 
been  gained  —  the  Senate  had  secured  Pompey.  Cse- 
sar's  greatness  was  too  much  for  him.  He  could 
never  again  hope  to  be  the  first  on  the  popular  side, 
and  he  preferred  being  the  saviour  of  the  constitu- 
tion to  playing  second  to  a  person  whom  he  had  pat- 
ronized. Pompey  ought  long  since  to  have  been  in 
Spain  with  his  troops ;  but  he  had  stayed  at  Rome  to 
keep  order,  and  he  had  lingered  on  with  the  same 
pretext.  The  first  step  was  to  weaken  Csesar  and  to 
provide  Pompey  with  a  force  in  Italy.  The  Senate 
discovered  suddenly  that  Asia  Minor  was  in  danger 
from  thfe  Parthians.  They  voted  that  Caesar  and 
Pompey  must  each  spare  a  legion  for  the  East.  Pom- 
pey gave  as  his  part  the  legion  which  he 
had  lent  to  Csesar  for  the  last  campaign. 
Caesar  was  invited  to  restore  it  and  furnish  another 
of  his  own.  Caesar  was  then  in  Belgium.  He  saw 
the  object  of  the  demand  perfectly  clearly;  but  he 
sent  the  two  legions  without  a  word,  contenting  him- 
self with  making  Jiandsome  presents  to  the  officers 
and  men  on  their  leaving  him.  When  they  reached 
Italy  the  Senate  found  that  they  were  wanted  for 
home  service,  and  they  were  placed  under  Pompey's 
command  in  Campania.  The  consuls  chosen  for  the 
year  49  were  Lucius  Cornelius  Lentulus  and  Caius 
Marcellus,  both  of  them  Caesar's  open  enemies.  Cae- 
sar himself  had  been  promised  the  consulship  (there 
could  be  no  doubt  of  his  election,  if  his  name  was 
accepted  in  his  absence)  for  the  year  48.     He  was  to 


374  Ccesar. 

remain  with  his  troops  till  his  term  had  run  out,  and 
to  be  allowed  to  stand  while  still  in  command.  This 
was  the  distinct  engagement  which  the  assembly  had 
ratified.  After  the  consular  election  had  been  secured 
in  the  autumn  of  50  to  the  Conservative  candidates, 
it  was  proposed  that  by  a  displacement  of  dates  Cai- 
sar's  government  should  expire,  not  at  the  close  of  the 
tenth  year,  but  in  the  spring,  on  the  1st  of  March. 
Convenient  constitutional  excuses  were  found  for  the 
change.  On  the  1st  of  March  he  was  to  cease  to  be 
governor  of  Gaul.  A  successor  was  to  be  named  to 
take  over  his  army.  He  would  then  have  to  return 
to  Rome,  and  would  lie  at  the  mercy  of  his  enemies. 
Six  months  would  intervene  before  the  next  elections, 
during  which  he  might  be  impeached,  incapacitated, 
or  otherwise  disposed  of  ;  while  Pompey  and  his  two 
legions  could  effectually  prevent  any  popular  disturb- 
ance in  his  favor.  The  Senate  hesitated  before  de- 
cisively voting  the  recall.  An  intimation  was  con- 
veyed to  Csesar  that  he  had  been  mistaken  about  his 
term,  which  would  end  sooner  than  he  had  supposed ; 
and  the  world  was  waiting  to  see  how  he  would  take 
it.  Atticus  thought  that  he  would  give  way.  His 
having  parted  so  easily  with  two  legions  did  not  look 
like  resistance.  Marcus  Caelius,  a  correspondent  of 
Cicero,  who  had  been  elected  praetor  for  49,  and  kept 
his  friend  informed  how  things  were  going  on,  wrote 
in  the  autumn  :  — 

"  All  is  at  a  standstill  about  the  Gallic  government. 
The  subject  has  been  raised,  and  is  again  postponed. 
Pompey's  view  is  plain,  that  Caesar  must  leave  his 
province  after  the  1st  of  March  ....  btit  he  doea 
not  think  that  before  that  time  the  Senate  can  prop- 
erly pass  a  resolution   about  it.     After  the   1st   of 


Curio,  375 

March  he  will  have  no  hesitation.  When  he  was 
asked  what  he  would  do  if  a  tribune  interposed,  he 
said  it  made  no  difference  whether  Caesar  himself  dis- 
obeyed the  Senate,  or  provided  some  one  else  to  in- 
terfere with  the  Senate.  Suppose,  said  one,  Csesar 
wishes  to  be  consul  and  to  keep  his  array.  Pompey 
answered,  '  What  if  my  son  wishes  to  lay  a  stick  on 
my  back  ?'....  It  appears  that  Caesar  will  accept 
one  or  other  of  two  conditions ;  either  to  remain  in 
his  province,  and  postpone  his  claim  for  the  consul- 
ship ;  or,  if  he  can  be  named  for  the  consulship,  then 
to  retire.  Curio  is  all  against  him.  What  he  can 
accomplish,  I  know  not ;  but  I  perceive  this,  that  if 
Caesar  means  well,  he  will  not  be  overthrown."  ^ 

The  object  of  the  Senate  was  either  to  ruin  Caesar, 
if  he  complied  with  this  order,  or  to  put  him  in  the 
wrong  by  provoking  him  to  disobedience.  The  scheme 
was  ingenious ;  but  if  the  Senate  could  mine,  Csesar 
could  countermine.  Ccelius  said  that  Curio  was  vio- 
lent against  him  :  and  so  Curio  had  been.  Curio  was 
a  young  man  of  high  birth,  dissolute,  extravagant, 
and  clever.  His  father,  who  had  been  consul  five- 
and-twenty  years  before,  was  a  strong  aristocrat  and 
a  close  friend  of  Cicero's.  The  son  had  taken  the 
same  line  ;  but,  among  other  loose  companions,  he 
had  made  the  acquaintance,  to  his  father's  regret,  of 
Mark  Antony,  and  though  they  had  hitherto  been  of 
opposite  politics,  the  intimacy  had  continued.  The 
Senate's  influence  had  made  Curio  tribune  for  the 
year  49.  Antony  had  been  chosen  tribune  also.  To 
che  astonishment  of  everybody  but  Cicero,  it  appeared 
that  these  two,  who  were  expected  to  neutralize  each 
other,  were  about  to  work  together,  and  to  veto  every 

I  Cselios  to  Cicero,  Ad.  Fam.  viii.  8. 


378  Cmar. 

resolution  whicli  seemed  an  unfair  return  for  Cassar'a 
services.  Scandal  said  that  young  Curio  was  in 
money  difficulties,  and  that  Csssar  had  paid  his  debts 
for  him.  It  was  perhaps  a  lie  invented  by  political 
malignity  ;  but  if  Curio  was  purchasable,  Caesar  would 
not  have  hesitated  to  buy  him.  His  habit  was  to 
take  facts  as  they  were,  and  when  satisfied  that  his 
object  was  just,  to  go  the  readiest  way  to  it. 

The  desertion  of  their  own  tribune  was  a  serious 
blow  to  the  Senate.  Caelius,  who  was  to  be  prsetor, 
was  inclining  to  think  that  Cassar  would  win,  and 
therefore  might  take  his  side  also.  The  constitu- 
tional opposition  would  then  be  extremely  strong; 
and  even  Pompey,  fiercely  as  he  had  spoken,  doubted 
what  to  do.  The  question  was  raised  in  the  Senate, 
whether  the  tribunes'  vetoes  were  to  be  regarded. 
Marcellus,  who  had  flogged  the  citizen  of  Como, 
voted  for  defying  them,  but  the  rest  were  timid. 
Pompey  did  not  know  his  own  mind.^  Caelius's  ac- 
count of  his  own  feelings  in  the  matter  represented 
probably  those  of  many  besides  himself. 

"  In  civil  quarrels,"  he  wrote  to  Cicero,  "  we  ought 
to  go  with  the  most  honest  party,  as  long  as  the  con- 
test lies  within  constitutional  limits.  When  it  is  an 
affair  of  camps  and  battles,  we  must  go  with  the 
strongest.  Pompey  will  have  the  Senate  and  the 
men  of  consideration  with  him.  All  the  discontented 
will  go  with  Caesar.  I  must  calculate  the  forces  on 
both  sides,  before  I  decide  on  my  own  part."  ^ 

When  the  question  next  came  on  in  the  Senate, 
Curio,  being  of  course  instructed  in  Caesar's  wishes, 
professed  to  share  the  anxiety  leSt  there  should  be  a 

1  Cselius  to  Cicero,  Ad.  Fam,  viii.  13. 

2  lb.  viii.  14. 


Divisions  en  the  Senate,  377 

military  Dictatorship  ;  but  he  said  that  the  danger 
was  as  great  from  Pompey  as  from  Csesar.  He  did 
not  object  to  the  recall  of  Caesar,  but  Pompey,  he 
thought,  should  resign  his  province  also,  and  the  con- 
stitution would  then  be  out  of  peril.  Pompey  pro- 
fessed to  be  willing,  if  the  Seiiate  desired  it ;  but  he 
insisted  that  Caesar  must  take  the  first  step.  Curio's 
proposal  was  so  fair,  that  it  gained  favor  both  in 
Forum  and  Senate.  The  populace,  who  hated  Pom- 
pey, threw  flowers  upon  the  tribune  as  he  passed. 
Marcellus,  the  consul,  a  few  days  later,  put  the  ques- 
tion in  the  Senate  :  Was  Caesar  to  be  recalled  ?  A 
majority  answered  Yes.  Was  Pompey  to  be  de- 
prived of  his  province  ?  The  same  majority  said  No. 
Curio  then  proposed  that  both  Pompey  and  Csesar 
should  dismiss  their  armies.  Out  of  three  hundred 
and  ninety-two  senators  present,  three  hundred  and 
seventy  agreed.  MarceUus  told  them  bitterly  that  they 
had  voted  themselves  Caesar's  slaves.  But  they  were 
not  all  insane  with  envy  and  hatred,  and  in  the  midst 
of  their  terrors  they  retained  some  prudence,  perhaps 
some  conscience  and  sense  of  justice.  By  this  time, 
however,  the  messengers  who  had  been  sent  to  com- 
municate the  Senate's  views  to  Csesar  had  returned. 
They  brought  no  positive  answer  from  himself  ;  but 
they  reported  that  Caesar's  troops  were  worn  out  and 
discontented,  and  certainly  would  refuse  to  support 
him  in  any  violent  action.  How  false  their  ac(  ount 
of  the  army  was  the  Senate  had  soon  reason  to  know ; 
but  it  was  true  that  one,  and  he  the  most  trusted 
officer  that  Caesar  had,  Labienus,  who  had  fought 
through  so  many  battles  with  him  in  the  Forum  as 
well  as  in  the  field,  whose  high  talents  and  character 
his  Commentaries   could  never  praise  sufficiently  — 


378  Coemr, 

it  "was  true  that  Labienus  had  listened  to  the  offers 
made  him.  Labienus  had  made  a  vast  fortune  in 
the  war.  He  perhaps  tlionght,  as  other  distinguished 
officers  have  done,  that  he  was  the  person  that  had 
won  the  victories  ;  that  without  him  Caesar,  who  was 
being  so  much  praised  and  glorified,  would  have  been 
nothing ;  and  that  he  at  least  was  entitled  to  an 
equal  share  of  the  honors  and  rewards  that  might  be 
coming ;  while  if  Caesar  was  to  be  disgraced,  he  might 
have  the  whole  recompense  for  himself.  Csesar  heard 
of  these  overtures  ;  but  he  had  refused  to  believe  that 
Labienus  could  be  untrue  to  him.  He  showed  his 
confidence,  and  he  showed  at  the  same  time  the  in- 
tegrity of  his  own  intentions,  by  appointing  the  officer 
who  was  suspected  of  betraying  him  Lieutenant-gen- 
eral of  the  Cisalpine  Province.  None  the  less  it  was 
true  that  Labienus  had  been  won  over.  Labienus 
had  undertaken  for  his  comrades ;  and  the  belief  that 
Caesar  could  not  depend  on  his  troops  renewed  Pom- 
pey's  courage  and  gave  heart  to  the  faction  which 
wished  to  precipitate  extremities.  The  aspect  of 
things  w'as  now  altered.  What  before  seemed  rash 
and  dangerous  might  be  safely  ventured.  Caesar  had 
himself  followed  the  messengers  to  Ravenna.  To 
raise  the  passions  of  men  to  the  desired  heat,  a  re- 
port was  spread  that  he  had  brought  his  troops  across 
and  was  marching  on  Rome.  Curio  hastened  off  to 
him,  to  bring  back  under  his  own  hand  a  distinct 
declaration  of  his  views. 

It  was  at  this  crisis,  in  the  middle  of  the  winter 
50-49,  that  Cicero  returned  to  Rome.  He  had  held 
his  government  but  for  two  years,  and  instead  of  es- 
caping the  catastrophe,  he  found  himself  plunged 
into  the  heart  of  it.     He  had  managed  his  province 


Cicero^s  Difficulties,  379 

well.  No  one  ever  suspected  Cicero  of  being  corrupt 
or  unjust.  He  had  gained  some  respectable  successes 
in  putting  down  tbe  Cilician  banditti.  He  had  been 
named  Imperator  by  his  soldiers  in  the  field  after  an 
action  in  which  he  had  commanded ;  he  had  been 
flattering  himself  with  the  prospect  of  a  triumph, 
and  had  laid  up  money  to  meet  the  cost  of  it.  The 
quarrel  between  the  two  great  men  whom  he  Lid  so 
long  feared  and  flattered,  and  the  necessity  which 
might  be  thrown  on  him  of  declaring  publicly  on  one 
side  or  the  other,  agitated  him  terribly.  In  October, 
as  he  was  on  his  way  home,  he  expressed  his  anxi- 
eties with  his  usual  frankness  to  Atticus. 

"  Consider  the  problem  for  me,"  he  said,  "  as  it 
affects  myself :  you  advised  me  to  keep  on  terms  both 
with  Pompey  and  Csesar.  You  bade  me  adhere  to 
one  because  he  had  been  good' to  me,  and  to  the  other 
because  he  was  strong.  I  have  done  so.  I  so  ordered 
matters  that  no  one  could  be  dearer  to  either  of  them 
than  I  was.  I  reflected  thus :  while  I  stand  by  Pom- 
pey, I  cannot  hurt  the  Commonwealth  ;  if  I  agree 
with  Csesar,  I  need  not  quarrel  with  Pompey ;  so 
closely  they  appeared  to  be  connected.  But  now 
they  are  at  a  sharp  issue.  Each  regards  me  as  his 
friend,  unless  Csesar  dissembles  ;  while  Pompey  is 
right  in  thinking,  that  what  he  proposes  I  shall  ap- 
prove. I  heard  from  both  at  the  time  at  which  I 
heard  from  you.  Their  letters  were  most  polite. 
What  am  I  do  ?  I  don't  mean  in  extremities.  If 
it  comes  to  fighting,  it  will  be  better  to  be  defeated 
with  one  than  to  conquer  with  the  other.  But  when 
I  arrive  at  Rome,  I  shall  be  required  to  say  if  Caesa^ 
iS  to  be  proposed  for  the  consulship  in  his  absence,  oi 
if  he  is  to  dismiss  his  army.     What  must  I  answer  ? 


880  Ccesar. 

"Wait  till  I  have  consulted  Atticus  ?  That  will  not 
do.  Shall  I  go  against  Ccesar  ?  Where  are  Pom- 
pey's  resources  ?  I  myself  took  Csssar's  part  about 
it.  He  spoke  to  me  on  the  subject  at  Ravenna.  I 
recommended  his  request  to  the  tribunes  as  a  reason- 
able one.  Pompey  talked  with  me  also  to  the  sajne 
purpose.  Am  I  to  change  my  mind  ?  I  am  ashamed 
to  oppose  him  now.  Will  you  have  a  fool's  opinion  ? 
I  will  apply  for  a  triumph,  and  so  I  shall  have  an  ex- 
cuse for  not  entering  the  city.  You  will  laugh.  But 
oh,  I  wish  I  had  remained  in  my  province.  Could  I 
but  have  guessed  what  was  impending  !  Think  for 
me.  How  shall  I  avoid  displeasing  Caesar?  He 
writes  most  kindly  about  a^  '  Thanksgiving '  for  my 
success."  ^ 

Csesar  had  touched  the  right  point  in  congratulat- 
ing Cicero  on  his  military  exploits.  His  friends  in 
the  Senate  had  been  less  delicate.  Bibulus  had  been 
thanked  for  hiding  from  the  Parthians.  When  Cic- 
ero had  hinted  his  expectations,  the  Senate  had 
passed  to  the  order  of  the  day. 

"  Cato,"  he  wrote,  "  treats  me  scurvily.  He  gives 
me  praise  for  justice,  clemency,  and  integrity,  which 
I  did  not  want.  What  I  did  want  he  will  not  let  me 
have.  Csesar  promises  me  everything.  —  Cato  has 
given  a  twenty  days'  thanksgiving  to  Bibulus.  Par- 
don me,  if  this  is  more  than  I  can  bear.  But  I  am 
relieved  from  my  worst  fear.  The  Parthians  have 
left  Bibulus  half  alive."  2 

The  shame  wore  off  as  Cicero  drew  near  to  Rome. 
He  blamed  the  tribunes  for  insisting  on  what  he  had 
himself  declared  to  be  just.  "  Any  way,"  he  said, 
"  I  stick  to  Pompey.     When  they  say  to  me,  Marcus 

1  To  Aiticua,  vii.  1,  abridged.  2  lb.  vii.  2. 


Cieero^s  Difficulties.  381 

Tulliiis,  what  do  you  tliink  ?  I  shall  answer,  I  go 
with  Pompey  ;  but  privately  I  shall  advise  Pompey 
to  come  to  terms.  We  have  to  do  with  a  man  full  of 
audacity  and  completely  prepared.  Every  felon,  every 
citizen  who  is  in  disgrace  or  ought  to  be  in  disgrace, 
almost  all  the  young,  the  city  mob,  the  tribunes, 
debtors,  who  are  more  numerous  than  I  could  have 
believed,  all  these  are  with  Caesar.  He  wants  nothing 
but  a  good  cause,  and  war  is  always  uncertain."^ 

Pompey  had  been  unwell  at  the  beginning  of  De- 
cember, and  had  gone  for  a  few  days  into  the  coun- 
try. Cicero  met  him  on  the  10th.  "  We  were  two 
hours  together,"  he  said.  "  Pompey  was  delighted 
at  my  arrival.  He  spoke  of  my  triumph,  and  prom- 
ised to  do  his  part.  He  advised  me  to  keep  away 
from  the  Senate,  till  it  was  arranged,  lest  I  should 
offend  the  tribunes.  He  spoke  of  war  as  certain. 
Not  a  word  did  he  utter  pointing  to  a  chance  of 
compromise.  —  My  comfort  is  that  Cassar,  to  whom 
even  his  enemies  had  allowed  a  second  consulship, 
and  to  whom  fortune  had  given  so  much  power,  will 
not  be  so  mad  as  to  throw  all  this  away."  ^  Cicero 
had  soon  to  learn  that  the  second  consulship  was  not 
80  certain.  On  the  29th  he  had  another  long  con- 
Tersation  with  Pompey. 

"  Is  there  hope  of  peace  ?  "  he  wrote,  in  reporting 
what  had  passed.  "  So  far  as  I  can  gather  from  his 
very  full  expressions,  to  me,  he  does  not  desire  it. 
For  he  thinks  thus  :  If.Csesar  be  made  consul,  even 
after  he  has  parted  from  his  army,  the  constitution 
will  be  at  an  end.  He  thinks  also  that  when  Caesar 
hears  of  the  preparations  against  him,  he  will  drop 
the  consulship  for  this  year,  to  keep  his  province 

1  To  Aiticus,  vii.  3.  *  lb.  vii.  4. 


382  Ccesar, 

and  his  troops.  Should  he  be  so  insane  as  to  try  ex- 
tremities, Pompey  holds  him  in  utter  contempt.  1 
thought,  when  he  was  speaking,  of  the  uncertainties 
of  war  ;  but  I  was  relieved  to  hear  a  man  of  courago 
and  experience  talk  like  a  statesman  of  the  dangers 
of  an  insincere  settlement.  Not  only  he  does  not 
seek  for  peace,  but  he  seems  to  fear  it.  My  own 
vexation  is,  that  I  must  pay  Caesar  my  debt,  and 
spend  thus  wdiat  I  ha'd  set  apart  for  my  triumph.  It 
is  indecent  to  owe  money  to  a  political  antagonist."  ^ 
Events  were  hurrying  on.  Cicero  entered  Rome 
the  first  week  in  January,  to  find  that  the 

B.  C.  49. 

Senate  had  begun  work  in  earnest.  Curio 
had  returned  from  Ravenna  with  a  letter  from  Caesar. 
He  had  offered  three  alternatives.  First,  that  the 
agreement  already  made  might  stand,  and  that  he 
might  be  nominated,  in  his  absence,  for  the  consul- 
ship ;  or  that  when  he  left  his  army,  Pompey  should 
disband  his  Italian  legions ;  or,  lastly,  that  he  should 
hand  over  Transalpine  Gaul  to  his  successor  with 
eight  of  his  ten  legions,  himself  keeping  the  north  of 
Italy  and  Illyria  with  two,  until  his  election.  It  was 
the  first  of  January.  The  new  consuls,  Lentulus  and 
Caius  Marcellus,  with  the  other  magistrates,  had  en- 
tered on  their  offices,  and  were  in  their  places  in  the 
Senate.  Pompey  was  present,  and  the  letter  was  in- 
troduced. The  consuls  objected  to  it  being  read,  but 
they  were  overruled  by  the  remonstrances  of  the  trib- 
unes. The  reading  over,  the  consuls  forbade  a  debate 
upon  it,  and  moved  that  the  condition  of  the  Common- 
wealth should  be  taken  into  consideration.     Lentulus, 

1  "Mihi  autem  illud  molesti&simum  est,  quod  solvendi  sunt  nummi 
Caesari,  et  instrumentum  triumphi  eo  conferendura.  Est  anop(}>ov  dr-tiroA*> 
ftvofiivov  xpew^e«,X«Tij;i'  esse."  — lb.  viii.  8. 


Debate  in  the  Senate.  385 

the  more  impassioned  of  tliem,  said  that  if  the  Senate 
would  be  firm,  he  would  do  his  duty ;  if  they  hesi- 
tated and  tried  conciliation,  he  should  take  care  of 
himself,  and  go  over  to  Csesar's  side.  Metellus  Scipio, 
Pompey's  father-in-law,  spoke  to  the  same  purpose. 
Pompey,  he  said,  was  ready  to  support  the  constitu- 
tion, if  the  Senate  were  resolute.  If  they  wavered, 
they  would  look  in  vain  for  future  help  from  him. 
Marcus  MarceUus,  the  consul  of  the  'preceding  year, 
less  wild  than  he  had  been  when  he  flogged  the  Come 
citizen,  advised  delay,  at  least  till  Pompey  was  better 
prepared.  Calidius,  another  senator,  moved  that 
Pompey  should  go  to  his  province.  Caesar's  resent- 
ment at  the  detention  of  the  two  legions  from  the 
Parthian  war,  he  thought,  was  natural  and  justifiable. 
Marcus  Ruf  us  agreed  with  Calidius.  But  moderation 
was  borne  down  by  the  violence  of  Lentulus ;  and  the 
Senate,  in  spite  of  themselves,^  voted,  at  Scipio's  dic- 
tation, that  Csesar  must  dismiss  his  army  before  a  day 
which  was  to  be  fixed,  or,  in  default,  would  be  de- 
clared an  enemy  to  the  State.  Two  tribunes,  Mark 
Antony  and  Cassius  Longinus,  interposed.  The 
tribunes'  veto  was  as  old  as  their  institution.  It  had 
been  left  standing  even  by  Sylla.  But  the  aristocracy 
were  declaring  war  against  the  people.  They  knew 
that  the  veto  was  coming,  and  they  had  resolved  to 
disregard  it.  The  more  passionate  the  speakers,  the 
more  they  were  cheered  by  Caesar's  enemies.  The 
sitting  ended  in  the  evening  without  a  final  conclu- 
sion ;  but  at  a  meeting  afterwards,  at  his  house,  Pom- 
pey quieted  alarms  by  assuring  the  senators  that 
there  was  nothing  to  fear.     Caesar's  army  he  knew  to 

1  "Inviti  et  coacti "  is  Cjesar's  expression.    He  wished,  perhaps,  to 
•often  the  Senate's  action.    {De  Bello  Civili,  i.  2.) 


384  Ccesar. 

be  disaffected,  He  introduced  tlie  officers  of  the  two 
legions  that  had  been  taken  from  Ca3sar,  who  vouched 
for  their  fidelity  to  the  constitution.  Some  of  Pom- 
pey's  veterans  were  present,  called  up  from  their 
farms;  they  were  enthusiastic  for  their  old  comman- 
der. Piso,  Caesar's  father-in-law,  and  Roscius,  a  praj- 
tor,  begged  for  a  week's  delay,  that  they  might  go 
to  Caesar,  and  explain  the  Senate's  pleasure.  Others 
proposed  to  send  a  deputation  to  soften  the  harsh- 
ness of  his  removal.  But  Lentulus,  backed  by  Cato, 
would  listen  to  nothing.  Cato  detested  Caesar  as 
the  representative  of  everything  which  he  most  ab- 
horred. Lentulus,  bankrupt  and  loaded  with  debts, 
was  looking  for  provinces  to  ruin,  and  allied  sover- 
eigns to  lay  presents  at  his  feet.  He  boasted  that  -he 
would  be  a  second  Sylla.^  When  the  Senate  met 
again  in  their  places,  the  tribunes'  veto  was  disal- 
lowed. They  ordered  a  general  levy  through  Italy. 
The  consuls  gave  Pompey  the  command-in-chief,  with 
the  keys  of  the  treasury.  The  Senate  redistributed 
the  provinces ;  giving  Syria  to  Scipio,  and  in  Caesar's 
place  appointing  Domitius  Ahenobarbus,  the  most  in- 
veterate and  envenomed  of  his  enemies.  Their  au- 
thority over  the  provinces  had  been  taken  from  them 
by  law,  but  law  was  set  aside.  Finally,  they  voted 
the  State  in  danger,  suspended  the  constitution,  and 
gave  the  consuls  absolute  power. 

The  final  votes  were  taken  on  the  7th  of  January. 
A  single  week  had  sufficed  for  a  discussion  of  the 
resolutions  on  which  the  fate  of  Rome  depended. 
The  Senate  pretended  to  be  defending  the  constitu- 
tion.    Tliey  had  themselves  destroyed  the  constitu- 

1  "  Seque  alteram  fore  SuUam  inter  suos  gloriatur.  "—  De  BeUo  CiviU, 
i.4. 


Alternative  SchemeB.  885 

tion,  and  established  on  the  ruins  of  it  a  senatorial  ol- 
igarchy. The  tribunes  fled  at  once  to  Csesar.  Pom- 
pey  left  the  city  for  Campania,  to  join  his  two  legions 
and  superintend  the  levies. 

The  unanimity  which  had  appeared  in  the  Senate  s 
final  determination  was  on  the  surface  only.  Cicero, 
though  present  in  Rome,  had  taken  no  part,  and 
looked  on  in  despair.  The  "  good  "  were  shocked  at 
Pompey's  precipitation.  The^^  saw  that  a  civil  war 
could  end  only  in  a  despotism.^  "  I  have  not  met  one 
man,"  Cicero  said,  "who  does  not  think  it  would  be 
better  to  make  concessions  to  Csesar  than  to  fight 
him.  —  Why  fight  now  ?  Things  are  no  worse  than 
when  we  gave  him  his  additional  five  years,  or  agreed 
to  let  him  be  chosen  consul  in  his  absence.  You 
wish  for  my  opinion.  I  think  we  ought  to  use  every 
means  to  escape  war.  But  I  must  say  what  Pom- 
pey  says.     I  cannot  differ  from  Pom  pey."  ^ 

A  day  later,  before  the  final  vote  had  been  taken, 
he  thought  still  that  the  Senate,  was  willing  to  let 
Cfesar  keep  his  province,  if  he  would  dissolve  his 
army.  The  moneyed  interests,  the  peasant  land- 
holders, were  all  on  Caesar's  side  ;  they  cared  not 
even  if  monarchy  came  so  that  they  might  have 
peace.  "  We  could  have  resisted  Csesar  easily  when 
he  was  weak,"  he  wrote.  "  Now  he  has  eleven  le- 
gions and  as  many  cavalry  as  he  chooses  with  him, 
the  Cisalpine  provincials,  the  Roman  populace,  the 
tribunes,  and  the  hosts  of  dissolute  young  men.  Yet 
we  are  to  fight  with  him,  or  take  account  of  him  un- 
constitutionally. Fight,  you  say,  rather  than  be  a 
slave.  Fight  for  what  ?  To  be  proscribed,  if  you 
are  beaten ;   to  be  a  slave  still,  if  you  win.     What 

1  "  Turn  certe  tyrannus  existet."  —  To  Atticus,  vii.  5.         2  /j.  vil.  6. 
25 


386  Coe%ar, 

will  you  do  then  ?  you  ask.  As  the  sheep  folio wa 
the  flock  and  the  ox  the  herd,  so  will  I  follow  the 
"good,"  or  those  who  are  called  good,  but  I  see 
plainly  what  will  come  out  of  this  sick  state  of  ours. 
No  one  knows  what  the  fate  of  war  may  be.  Sut  if 
the  "  good  "  are  beaten,  this  much  is  certain,  that  Cae- 
sar will  be  as  bloody  as  Ginna,  and  as  greedy  of  other 
men's  properties  as  Sylla."  ^ 

Once  more,  and  still  in  the  midst  of  uncertainty: 
"  The  position  is  this :  We  must  either  let  Csesar 
stand  for  the  consulship,  he  keeping  his  army  with 
the  Senate's  consent,  or  supported  by  the  tribunes ; 
or  we  must  persuade  him  to  resign  his  province  and 
his  army,  and  so  to  be  consul;  or  if  he  refuses,  the 
elections  can  be  held  without  him,  he  keeping  his 
province  ;  or  if  he  forbids  the  election  through  tlie 
tribunes,  we  can  hang  on  and  come  to  an  Interrex ; 
or,  lastly,  if  he  brings  his  army  on  us,  we  can  fight. 
Should  this  be  his  choice,  he  will  either  begin  at 
once,  before  we  are  ready,  or  he  will  wait  till  his 
election,  when  his  friends  will  put  in  his  name  and  it 
will  not  be  received.  His  plea  may  then  be  the  ill- 
treatment  of  himself,  or  it  may  be  complicated  fur- 
ther should  a  tribune  interpose   and  be  deprived  of 

office,  and  so  take  refuge  with  him You  will 

say,  persuade  Csesar,  then,  to  give  up  his  army,  and 
be  consul.  Surely,  if  he  will  agree,  no  objection  can 
be  raised;  and  if  he  is  not  allowed  to  stand  while  he 
keeps  his  army,  I  wonder  that  he  does  not  let  it  go. 
But  a  certain  person  (Pompey)  thinks  that  nothing 
is  so  much  to  be  feared  as  that  Csesar  should  be  con- 
sul. Better  thus,  you  will  say,  than  with  an  army. 
No  doubt.     But  a  certain  person  holds  that  his  con- 

1  To  Atticus,  vii.  7,  abridged. 


Wavering  of  Public  Opinion.  387 

sulship  would  be  an  irremediable  misfortune.  We 
must  yield  if  Caesar  will  have  it  so.  He  will  be  con- 
Bul  again,  the  same  man  that  lie  was  before ;  then, 
weak  as  he  was,  he  proved  stronger  than  the  wliole 
of  us.  What,  think  you,  will  he  be  now  ?  Pompey, 
for  one  thing,  will  surely  be  sent  to  Spain.  Misera- 
ble every  way  ;  and  the  worst  is,  that  Caesar  cannot 
be  refused,  and  by  consenting  will  be  taken  into 
supreme  favor  by  all  the  "good."  They  say,  how- 
ever, that  he  cannot  be  brought  to  this.  Well,  then, 
which  is  the  worst  of  the  remaining  alternatives? 
Submit  to  what  Pompey  calls  an  impudent  demand  ? 
Csesar  has  held  his  province  for  ten  years.  The 
Senate  did  not  give  it  him.  He  took  it  himself  by 
faction  and  violence.  Suppose  he  had  it  lawfully, 
the  time  is  up.  His  successor  is  named.  He  diso- 
beys. He  says  that  he  ought  to  be  considered.  Let 
him  consider  us.  Will  he  keep  his  army  beyond 
the  time  for  which  the  people  gave  it  to  him,  in  de- 
spite of  the  Senate  ?  We  must  fight  him  then,»and, 
as  Pompey  says,  we  shall  conquer  or  die  free  men. 
If  fight  we  must,  time  will  show  when  or  how.  But 
if  you  have  any  advice  to  give,  let  me  know  it,  for  I 
am  tormented  day  and  night."  ^ 

These  letters  give  a  vivid  picture  of  the  uncertain- 
ties which  distracted  public  opinion  during  the  fatal 
first  week  of  January.  Csesar,  it  seems,  might  pos- 
sibly have  been  consul  had  he  been  willing  to  retire 
at  once  into  the  condition  of  a  private  citizen,  even 
though  Pompey  was  still  undisarmed.  Whether  in 
that  position  he  would  have  lived  to  see  the  election- 
day  is  another  question.  Cicero  himself,  it  will  be 
§een,  had  been   reflecting   already  that  there  were 

1  To  Atticus,  vii.  9,  abridged. 


388  Cmar. 

means  less  perilous  than  civil  war  by  which  danger- 
ous persons  might  be  got  rid  of.  And  there  were 
weak  points  in  his  arguments  which  his  iuipatience 
passed  over.  Caesar  held  a  positive  engagement 
about  his  consulship,  which  the  people  had  ratified. 
Of  the  ten  years  Avhich  the  people  had  allowed  him, 
one  was  unexpired,  and  the  Senate  had  no  power  to 
vote  his  recall  without  the  tribunes'  and  the  people's 
consent.  He  might  well  hesitate  to  put  hiuiself  in 
the  power  of  a  faction  so  little  scrupulous.  It  is  evi- 
dent, however,  that  Porapey  and  the  two  consuls 
were  afraid  that  if  such  overtures  were  made  to  him 
by  a  deputation  from  the  Senate,  he  might  perhaps 
agree  to  them ;  and  by  their  rapid  and  violent  vote 
they  put  an  end  to  the  possibility  of  an  arrangement. 
Caesar,  for  no  other  crime  than  that  as  a  brilliant 
democratic  general  he  was  supposed  dangerous  to  the 
oligarchy,  had  been  recalled  from  his  command  in 
the  face  of  the  prohibition  of  the  tribunes,  and  was 
declared  an  enemy  of  his  country  unless  he  instantly 
submitted.  After  the  experience  of  Marius  and 
Sylla,  the  Senate  could  have  paid  no  higher  compli- 
ment to  Caesar's  character  than  in  believing  that  he 
would  hesitate  over  his  answer. 


CHAPTER  XXI. 

C^SAE,  when  the  report  of  the  Senate's  action 
reached   him,   addressed  his  soldiers.      He 

B   C   49 

had  but  one  legion  with  him,  the  13th.  But 
one  legion  would  represent  the  rest.  He  told  them 
what  the  Senate  had  done,  and  why  they  had  done  it. 
"  For  nine  years  he  and  his  army  had  served  their 
country  loyally  and  with  some  success.  They  had 
driven  the  Germans  over  the  Rhine ;  they  had  made 
Gaul  a  Roman  province ;  and  the  Senate  for  answer 
had  broken  the  constitution,  and  had  set  aside  the 
tribunes  because  they  spoke  in  his  defence.  They 
had  voted  the  State  in  danger,  and  had  called  Italy 
to  arms  when  no  single  act  had  been  done  by  himself 
to  justify  them."  The  soldiers  whom  Pompey  sup- 
posed disaffected  declared  with  enthusiasm  that  they 
would  support  their  commander  and  the  tribunes. 
They  offered  to  serve  without  pay.  Officers  and  men 
volunteered  contributions  for  the  expenses  of  the  war. 
In  all  the  army  one  officer  alone  proved  false.  La- 
bienus  kept  his  word  to  Pompey,  and  stole  away  to 
Capua.  He  left  his  effects  behind,  and  Caesar  sent 
them  after  him  untouched. 

Finding  that  all  the  rest  could  be  depended  on,  he 
sent  back  over  the  Alps  for  two  more  legions  to  fol- 
low him.  He  crossed  the  little  river  Rubicon,  which 
bounded  his  province,  and  advanced  to  Rimini,  where 
he  met  the  tribunes,  Antony,  Cassius  Longinus,  and 
Curio,  who  were  coming  to  him  from   Rome.^     At 

-  The  vision  on  the  Rubicon,  with  the  celebrated  saying  that  "  the  die 


890  Ccesar, 

Rimini  the  troops  were  again  assembled.  Curio  told 
them  what  had  passed.  C^sar  added  a  few  more 
words.  The  legionaries,  ojficers  and  privates,  were 
perfectly  satisfied ;  and  Caesar,  who,  a  resolution  once 
taken,  struck  as  swiftly  as  his  own  eagles,  was  pre- 
paring to  go  forward.  He  had  but  5,000  men  with 
him,  but  he  understood  the  state  of  Italy,  and  knew 
that  he  had  nothing  to  fear.  At  tliis  moment  Lucius 
Caesar,  a  distant  kinsman,  and  the  praitor  Roscius 
arrived,  as  they  said,  with  a  private  message  from 
Pompey.  The  message  was  nothing.  The  object 
was  no  more  than  to  gain  time.  But  Caesar  had  no 
wish  for  war,  and  would  not  throw  away  a  chance  of 
avoiding  it.  He  bade  his  kinsman  tell  Pompey  that 
it  was  for  him  to  compose  the  difficulties  which  had 
arisen  without  a  collision.  He  had  been  himself 
misrepresented  to  his  countrymen.  He  had  been 
recalled  from  his  command  before  his  time ;  the 
promise  given  to  him  about  his  consulship  had  been 
broken.  He  had  endured  these  injuries.  He  had 
proposed  to  the  Senate  that  the  forces  on  both  sides 
should  be  disbanded.  The  Senate  had  refused.  A 
levy  had  been  ordered  through  Italy,  and  the  legions 
designed  for  Parthia  had  been  retained.  Such  an 
attitude  could  have  but  one  meaning.  Yet  he  was 
still  ready  to  make  peace.  Let  Pompey  depart  to 
Spain.  His  own  troops  should  then  be  dismissed. 
The  elections  could  be  held  freely,  and  Senate  and 
people  would  be  restored  to  their  joint  authority.  If 
this  was  not  enough,  they  two  might  meet  and  re- 
lieve each  other's  alarms  and  suspicions  in  a  personal 
interview. 

is  cast,"  is  unauthenticated,  and  not  at  all  consistent  with  Caesar's  char* 
•cter. 


Flight  of  the  Senate,  391 

With  this  answer  the  envoys  went,  and  Csesar 
paused  at  Rimiui.  Meanwhile  the  report  reached 
Rome  that  Cajsar  had  crossed  the  Rubicon.  The 
aristocracy  had  nursed  the  pleasant  beUef  that  his 
heart  would  fail  him,  or  that  his  army  would  desert 
him.  His  heart  had  not  failed,  his  army  had  not  de- 
serted ;  and,  in  their  terror,  they  saw  him  already  in 
their  midst  like  an  avenging  Marius.  He  January, 
was  coming.  His  horse  had  been  seen  on  ^"  ^'  ^^' 
the  Apennines.  Flight,  instant  flight,  was  the  only 
safety.  Up  they  rose,  consuls,  prsetors,  senators, 
leaving  wives  and  children  and  property  to  their  fate, 
not  halting  even  to  take  the  money  out  of  the  treas- 
ury, but  contenting  themselves  with  leaving  it  locked. 
On  foot,  on  horseback,  in  litters,  in  carriages,  they 
fled  for  their  lives  to  find  safety  under  Pompey's 
wing  in  Capua.  In  this  forlorn  company  went  Cic- 
ero, filled  with  contempt  for  what  was  round  him. 

"You  ask  what  Pompey  means  to  do,"  he  wrote  to 
Atticus.  "  I  do  not  think  he  knows  himself.  Cer- 
tainly none  of  us  know.  —  It  is  all  panic  and  blunder. 
We  are  uncertain  whether  he  will  make  a  stand,  or 
leave  Italy.  If  he  stays,  I  fear  his  army  is  too  unre- 
liable. If  not,  where  will  he  go,  and  how  and  what 
are  his  plans  ?  Like  you,  I  am  afraid  that  Caesar  will 
be  a  Phalaris,  and  that  we  may  expect  the  very  worst. 
The  flight  of  the  Senate,  the  departure  of  the  magis- 
trates, the  closing  of  the  treasury,  Avill  not  stop  him. 
—  I  am  broken-hearted ;  so  ill-advisedly,  so  against  all 
my  counsels,  the  whole  business  has  been  conducted. 
Shall  I  turn  my  coat,  and  join  the  victors  ?  I  am 
ashamed.  Duty  forbids  me  ;  but  I  am  miserable  at 
the  thought  of  my  children."  ^ 

1  To  Atticus,  vii.  12. 


392  Coesar. 

A  gleam  of  hope  came  with  the  arrival  of  Labienus, 
but  it  soon  clouded.  "  Labienus  is  a  hero,"  Cicero 
said.  "  Never  Avas  act  more  splendid.  If  nothing 
else  comes  of  it,  he  has  at  least  made  Caesar  smart.  — 
We  have  a  civil  war  on  us,  not  because  we  have  quar- 
relled among  ourselves,  but  through  one  abandoned 
citizen.  But  this  citizen  has  a  strong  army,  and  a 
large  party  attached  to  him.  —  What  he  will  do  I  can- 
not say;  he  cannot  even  pretend  to  do  anything  con- 
stitutionally ;  but  what  is  to  become  of  us,  with  a  gen- 
eral that  cannot  lead  ?  —  To  say  nothing  of  ten  years 
of  blundering,  what  could  have  been  worse  than  this 
flight  from  Rome  ?  His  next  purpose  I  know  not.  I 
ask,  and  can  have  no  answer.  All  is  cowardice  and 
confusion.  He  was  kept  at  home  to  protect  us,  and 
protection  there  is  none.  The  one  hope  is  in  two  le- 
gions invidiously  detained  and  almost  not  belonging 
to  us.  As  to  the  levies,  the  men  enlist  unwillingly, 
and  hate  the  notion  of  a  war."  ^ 

In  this  condition  of  things  Lucius  Caesar  arrived 
with  the  answer  from  Rimini.  A  council  of  war  was 
held  at  Teano  to  consider  it ;  and  the  flames  which 
had  burnt  so  hotly  at  the  beginning  of  the  month 
were  found  to  have  somewhat  cooled.  Cato's  friend, 
Favonius,  was  still  defiant ;  but  the  rest,  even  Cato 
himself,  had  grown  more  modest.  Pompey,  it  was 
plain,  had  no  army,  and  could  not  raise  an  army. 
Caesar  spoke  fairly.  It  might  be  only  treachery ;  but 
the  Senate  had  left  their  families  and  their  property 
in  Rome.  The  public  money  was  in  Rome.  They 
were  willing  to  consent  that  Caesar  should  be  consul, 
fiinco  so  it  must  be.     Unluckily  for  themselves,  they 

1  Delectus  ....  invitorum  est  et  pugnaiido  ab  horrentiura.  —  To  At- 
NciM,  vii.  13. 


Pompey^s  Reply  to  Ccesar,  393 

left  Pompey  to  draw  up  their  reply.  Pompey  in- 
trusted the  dut}^  to  an  incapable  person  named  Ses 
tius,  and  the  answer  was  ill-written,  awkward,  and 
wanting  on  the  only  point  which  would  have  proved 
his  sincerity.  Pompey  declined  the  proposed  inter- 
view. Cajsar  must  evacuate  Rimini,  and  return  to 
his  province ;  afterwards,  at  some  time  unnamed. 
Pompey  would  go  to  Spain,  and  other  matters  should 
be  arranged  to  Ca?sar's  satisfaction.  Caesar  must 
give  securities  that  he  would  abide  by  his  promise  to 
dismiss  his  troops ;  and  meanwhile  the  consular  levies 
would  be  continued.^ 

To  Cicero  these  terms  seemed  to  mean  a  capitula- 
tion clumsily  disguised.  Cixsar  interpreted  them  dif- 
ferently. To  him  it  appeared  that  he  was  required 
to  part  with  his  own  army,  while  Pompey  was  form- 
ing another.  No  time  was  fixed  for  the  departure  to 
Spain.  He  might  be  himself  named  consul,  yet  Pom- 
pey might  be  in  Italy  to  the  end  of  the  year  with  an 
army  independent  of  him.  Evidently  there  was  dis- 
trust on  both  sides,  yet  on  Caesar's  part  a  distrust  not 
undeserved.  Pompey  would  not  see  him.  He  had 
admitted  to  Cicero  that  he  desired  a  war  to  prevent 
Caesar  from  being  consul,  and  at  this  very  moment 
was  full  of  hopes  and  schemes  for  carrying  it  on  suc- 
cessfully. "  Pompey  writes,"  reported  Cicero  on  the 
28th  of  January,  "  that  in  a  few  days  he  will  have  a 
force  on  which  he  can  rely.  He  will  occupy  Pice- 
.ium,2  and  we  are  then  to  return  to  Rome.  Labienus 
assures  him  that  Caesar  is  utterly  weak.  Thus  he  is 
m  better  spirits."  ^ 

1  Compare  Caesar's  account  of  .these  conditions,  De  Bella  Civili,  i.  10, 
with  Cicero  to  Atticus^  vii.  17. 

2  Between  the  Appcnnines  and  the  Adriatic,  about  Ancona;  in  the  lin« 
»f  Ceesar's  march  should  he  advance  from  Rimini. 

»  To  Atticua,  vii.  16 


394  Ccesar. 

A  second  legion  had  by  this  time  arrived  at  Rim- 
ini. Caesar  considered  that  if  the  Senate  really  de- 
sired peace,  their  disposition  wotdd  be  quickened  by 
further  pressure.  He  sent  Antony  across  the-,  mount- 
ains to  Arezzo,  on  the  straight  road  to  Rome;  and 
he  pushed  on  himself  towards  Ancona,  before  Pompey 
had  time  to  throw  himself  in  the  way.  The  towns 
on  the  way  opened  their  gates  to  him.  The  munic- 
ipal magistrates  told  the  commandants  that  they 
could  not  refuse  to  entertain  Caius  Caesar,  who  had 
done  such  great  things  for  the  Republic.  The  officers 
fled.  The  garrisons  joined  Caesar's  legions.  Even  a 
colony  planted  by  Labienus  sent  a  deputation  with 
offers  of  service.  Steadily  and  swiftly  in  gathering 
volume  the  army  of  the  north  came  on.  At  Capua 
all  was  consternation.  "The  consuls  are  helpless," 
Cicero  said.  "  There  has  been  no  levy.  The  com- 
missioners do  not  «ven  try  to  excuse  their  failure. 
With  Caesar  pressing  forward,  and  our  general  doing 
nothing,  men  will  not  give  in  their  names.  The  will 
is  not  wanting,  but  they  are  without  hope.  Pompey, 
February.  miserable  and  incredible  though  it  be,  is 
B.  0. 49.       prostrate.     He  has  no  courage,  no  purpose, 

no  force,  no  energy Cains  Cassius  came  on 

the  7th  to  Capua,  with  an  order  from  Pompey  to  the 
consuls  to  go  to  Rome  and  bring  away  the  money 
from  the  treasury.  How  are  they  to  go  without  an 
escort,  or  how  return  ?  The  consuls  say  he  must  go 
himself  first  to  Picenum.  But  Picenum  is  lost.  Cae- 
sar will  soon  be  in  Apulia,  and  Pompey  on  board  ship. 
What  shall  I  do  ?  I  should  not  doubt  had  there  not 
been  such  shameful  mismanagement,  and  had  I  been 
myself  consulted.  Caesar  invites  me  to  peace,  bat  his 
letter  was  written  before  his  advance.'*  ^ 

I  To  Atticus,  vii.  21. 


Capture  of  Corfinium,  395 

Desperate  at  the  lethargy  of  their  commander,  the 
aristocracy  tried  to  force  him  into. movement  by  act- 
ing on  their  own  account.  Domitias,  who  had  been 
appointed  Caesar's  successor,  was  most  interested  in 
his  defeat.  He  gathered  a  party  of  young  lords  and 
knights  and  a  few  thousand  men,  and  flung  himself 
into  Corfinium,  a  strong  position  in  the  Apennines^ 
directly  in  Caesar's  path.  Pompey  had  still  liia  two 
hjgions,  and  Domitius  sent  an  express  to  tell  him  that 
Caesar's  force  was  still  small,  and  that  with  a  slight 
effort  lie  might  inclose  him  in  the  mountains.  Mean- 
while Domitius  himself  tried  to  break  the  bridge  over 
the  Pescara.  He  was  too  late.  Caesar  had  by  this 
time  nearly  30,000  men.  The  Cisalpine  territories  in 
mere  enthusiasm  had  raised  twenty-two  cohorts  for 
him.  He  reached  the  Pescara  while  the  bridge  was 
still  standing.  He  surrounded  Corfinium  with  the 
impregnable  lines  which  had  served  him  so  well  in 
Gaul,  and  the  messenger  sent  to  Capua  came  back 
with  cold  comfort.  Pompey  had  simply  ordered  Do- 
mitius to  retreat  from  a  position  which  he  ought  not 
to  have  occupied,  and  to  join  him  in  Apulia.  It  was 
easy  to  say  Retreat !  No  retreat  was  possible.  Do- 
mitius and  his  companions  proposed  to  steal  away  in 
the  night.  They  were  discovered.  Their  own  troops 
arrested  them,  and  carried  them  as  prisoners  to  Cae- 
sar. Fortune  had  placed  in  his  hands  at  the  outset 
of  the  campaign  the  man  who  beyond  others  had  been 
the  occasion  of  it.  Domitius  would  have  killed  Cse- 
sar  like  a  bandit  if  be  had  caught  him.  He  probably 
expected  a  similar  fate  for  himself.  Caesar  received 
his  captives  calmly  and  coldly.  He  told  them  that 
they  had  made  an  ungrateful  return  to  him  for  his 
services  to  his  country  ;  and  then  dismissed  them  all, 


396  Cmar, 

restoring  even  Domitius's  well-filled  military  chest, 
and  too  proud  to  require  a  promise  from  liim  that  he 
would  abstain  personally  from  further  hostility.  His 
army,  such  as  it  was,  followed  the  general  example, 
and  declared  for  Caesar. 

The  capture  of  Corfinium  and  the  desertion  of  the 
garrison  made  an  end  of  hesitation.  Pompey  and 
the  consuls  thought  only  of  instant  flight,  and  hurried 
to  Brindisi,  where  ships  were  waiting  for  them  ;  and 
Caesar,  hoping  that  the  evident  feeling  of  Italy  would 
have  its  effect  with  the  reasonable  part  of  the  Senate, 
Bent  Cornelius  Balbus,  who  was  on  intimate  terms 
with  many  of  them,  to  assure  them  of  his  eagerness 
for  peace,  and  to  tell  Cicero  especially  that  he  would 
be  well  contented  to  live  under  Pompey's  rule  if  he 
could  have  a  guaranty  for  his  personal  safety. ^ 

Cicero's  trials  had  been  great,  and  were  not  dimin- 
ishing. The  account  given  by  Balbus  was  simply 
incredible  to  him.  If  Csesar  was  really  as  well  dis- 
posed as  Balbus  represented,  then  the  senatorial  party, 
himself  included,  had  acted  like  a  set  of  madmen. 
It  might  be  assumed,  therefore,  that  Caesar  was  as 
meanly  ambitious,  as  selfish,  as  revolutionary,  as  their 
March  fears  had  represented  him,  and  that  his  mild- 

B.  u.  49.  jjggg  ^j^g  nierely  affectation.  But  what  then  ? 
Cicero  wished  for  himself  to  be  on  the  right  side,  but 
also  to  be  on  the  safe  side.  Pompey's  was  the  right 
side,  the  side,  that  is,  which,  for  his  own  sake,  he 
would  prefer  to  see  victorious.  But  was  Pompe^^'s 
the  safe  side  ?  or  rather,  would  it  be  safe  to  go  against 
him  ?     The  necessity  for  decision  was  drawing  closer. 

-  "Balbus  quidem  major  ad  me  scribit,  nihil  malle  Csesarem,  quam 
;riacipe  Pompeio  sine  jnetu  vivere.  Tu  puto  haec  credis."  —  To  Atticus. 
riii.  9. 


Perplexity  of  Cicero,  397 

If  Pompey  and  the  consuls  went  abroad,  all  loyal 
senators  would  be  expected  to  follow  them,  and  to 
stay  behind  would  be  held  treason.  Italy  was  with 
Caesar ;  but  the  East,  with  its  treasures,  its  fleets,  its 
millions  of  men,  this  was  Pompey's,  heart  and  soul. 
The  sea  was  Pompey's.  Caesar  might  win  for  the 
moment,  but  Pompey  might  win  in  the  long  run. 
The  situation  was  most  perplexing.  Before  the  fall 
of  Corfinium  Cicero  had  poured  himself  out  upon  it 
to  his  friend.  *'  My  connections,  personal  and  politi- 
cal," he  said,  "  attach  me  to  Pompey.  If  I  stay  be- 
hind, I  desert  my  noble  and  admirable  companions, 
and  I  fall  into  the  power  of  a  man  whom  I  know  not 
how  far  I  can  trust.  He  shows  in  many  ways  that  he 
wishes  me  well.  I  saw  the  tempest  impending,  and  I 
long  ago  took  care  to  secure  his  good- will.  But  sup- 
pose him  to  be  my  friend  indeed,  is  it  becoming  in  a 
good  and  valiant  citizen,  who  has  held  the  highest 
offices  and  done  such  distinguished  things,  to  be  in 
the  power  of  any  man  ?  Ought  I  to  expose  myself 
to  the  danger,  and  perhaps  disgrace,  which  would  lie 
before  me,  should  Pompey  recover  his  position?  This 
on  one  side  ;  but  now  look  at  the  other.  Pompey  has 
shown  neither  conduct  nor  courage,  and  he  has  acted 
throughout  against  my  advice  and  judgment.  I  pass 
over  his  old  errors :  how  he  himself  armed  this  man 
against  the  constitution  ;  how  he  supported  his  laws  by 
violence  in  the  face  of  the  auspices  ;  how  he  gave  him 
Furthur  Gaul,  married  his  daughter,  supported  Clo- 
dius,  helped  me  back  from  exile  indeed,  but  neglected 
me  afterwards  ;  how  he  prolonged  Caesar's  command, 
and  backed  him  up  in  everything ;  how  in  his  third 
consulship,  when  he  had  begun  to  defend  the  consti- 
tution, he  yet  moved  the  tribunes  to  carry  a  resolu- 


898  Cmar. 

tion  for  taking  Caesar's  name  in  his  absence,  and  him' 
self  sanctioned  it  by  a  law  of  his  own ;  how  he  re- 
sisted Marcus  Marcelliis,  who  would  have  ended  Cae- 
sar's government  on  the  1st  of  March.  Let  us  forget 
all  this :  but  what  was  ever  more  disgraceful  than  the 
ilighi  from  Rome?  What  conditions  would  not  have 
beon  preferable?  He  will  restore  the  constitution, 
you  say,  but  when  ?  by  what  means  ?  Is  not  Picenum 
lost  ?  Is  not  the  road  open  to  the  city  ?  Is  not  our 
money,  pubUc  and  private,  all  the  enemy's  ?  There 
is  no  cause,  no  rallying  point  for  the  friends  of  the 

constitution The  rabble   are   all  for   Csesar, 

and  many  wish  for  revolution I  saw  from  the 

first  that  Pompey  only  thought  of  flight :  if  I  now 
follow  him,  whither  are  we  to  go?  Caesar  will  seize 
my  brother's  property  and  mine,  ours  perhaps  sooner 
than  others',  as  an  assault  on  us  would  be  popular. 
If  I  stay,  I  shall  do  no  more  than  many  good  men  did 
in  Cinna's.time.  —  Caesar  may  be  my  friend,  not  cer- 
tainly, but  perhaps  ;  and  he  may  offer  me  a  triumph 
•which  it  would  be  dangerous  to  refuse,  and  invidious 
with  the  '  good  '  to  accept.  Oh,  most  perplexing  po- 
sition !  —  while  I  write  word  comes  that  Ca3sar  is  at 
Corfinium.  Domitius  is  inside,  with  a  strong  force 
and  eager  to  fight.  I  cannot  think  Pompey  will  de- 
Bert  him."  1 

Pompey  did  desert  Domitius,  as  has  been  seen.. 
The  surrender  of  Corfinium,  and  the  circumstances  of 
ft,  gave  Cicero  the  excuse  which  he  evidently  desired 
tc  find  for  keeping  clear  of  a  vessel  that  appeared  to 
hiin  to  be  going  straight  to  shipwreck.  He  pleased 
himself  with  inventing  evil  purposes  for  Pompey,  to 
justify  his  leaving  him.  He  thought  it  possible  that 
1  To  AUicua,  viii.  3. 


Cicero  advises  Pompey  to  make  Peace,         899 

Domitius  and  his  friends  might  have  been  purposely 
left  to  fall  into  Csesar's  hands,  in  the  hope  j-ebruarv 
that  Ciesar  would  kill  them  and  make  him-  ®-  ^'  *^- 
self  unpopular.  Pompey,  he  was  satisfied,  meant  as 
much  to  be  a  despot  as  Ceesar.  Pompey  might  have 
defended  Rome,  if  he  had  pleased;  but  his  purpose 
was  to  go  away  and  raise  a  great  fleet  and  a  great 
Asiatic  array,  and  come  back  and  ruin  Italy,  and  be 
a  new  "  Sylla."  ^  In  his  distress  Cicero  wrote  both 
to  Caesar  and  to  Pompey,  who  was  now  at  Brindisi. 
To  Caesar  he  said  that,  if  he  wished  for  peace,  he 
might  command  his  services.  He  had  always  con- 
sidered that  Csesar  had  been  wronged  in  the  course 
which  had  been  pursued  towards  him.  Envy  and  ill- 
nature  had  tried  to  rob  him  of  the  honors  which  had 
been  conferred  on  him  by  the  Roman  people.  He 
protested  that  he  had  himself  supported  Csesar's 
claims,  and  had  advised  others  to  do  the  same.  But 
he  felt  for  Pompey  also,  he  said,  and  would  gladly  be 
of  service  to  him.*^ 

To  Pompey  he  wrote :  — 

"  My  advice  was  always  for  peace,  even  on  hard 
terms.  I  wished  you  to  remain  in  Rome.  You  never 
\iinted  that  you  thought  of  leaving  Italy.  I  accepted 
your  opinion,  not  for  the  constitution's  sake,  for  I 
despaired  of  saving  it.  The  constitution  is  gone,  and 
cannot  be  restored  without  a  destructive  war ;  but  I 
wished  to  be  with  you,  and  if  I  can  join  you  now,  I 

1  To  Attictis,  viii.  11. 

2  "  Judicaviqiw  te  bello  violari,  contra  cujus  honorem,  populi  Romani 
benelicio  concessum,  inimici  atque  invidi  niterentnr.  Sed  ut  ec  .empore 
non  modo  ipse  fautor  dignitatis  tuae  fui,  verum  etiam  caeteris  auc'or  ad  te 
adjuvandum,  sic  me  nunc  Pompeii  digriitas  veheineuter  movet,"  etc. — 
Ciqero  to  Ccesar,  inclosed  in  a  letter  to  Atticus,  in.  11. 


400  Ccesar. 

will.  I  know  well  that  my  conduct  has  not  pleased 
those  who  desired  to  fight.  I  urged  peace  ;  not  be- 
cause I  did  not  fear  what  they  feared,  but  because 
I  thought  peace  a  less  evil  than  war.  When  the  war 
BXarch  ^^^  bcguu  and  overtures  were  made  to  you, 

B.  c.  49.       yQ^  responded  so  amply  and  so  honorably 

that  I  hoped   I  had   prevailed I  was   never 

more  friendly  with  Caesar  than  they  were ;  nor  were 
they  more  true  to  the  State  than  I.  The  difference 
between  us  is  this,  that  while  they  and  I  are  alike 
good  citizens,  I  preferred  an  arrangement,  and  you,  I 
thought,  agreed  with  me.  They  chose  to  fight,  and 
us  their  counsels  have  been  taken,  I  can  but  do  my 
duty  as  a  member  of  the  Commonwealth,  and  as  a 
friend  to  you."  ^ 

In  this  last  sentence  Cicero  gives  his  clear  opinion 
that  the  aristocracy  had  determined  upon  war,  and 
that  for  this  reason  and  no  other  the  attempted  nego- 
tiations had  failed.  Csesar,  hoping  that  a  better  feel- 
ing might  arise  after  his  dismissal  of  Domitius,  had 
waited  a  few  days  at  Corfinium.  Finding  that  Pom- 
pey  had  gone  to  Brindisi,  he  then  followed,  trusting 
to  overtake  him  before  he  could  leave  Italy,  and  again 
by  messengers  pressed  him  earnestly  for  an  interview. 
By  desertions,  and  by  the  accession  of  volunteers, 
Osesar  had  now  six  legions  with  him.  If  Pompey 
escaped,  he  knew  that  the  war  would  be  long  and 
dangerous.  If  he  could  capture  him,  or  persuade  him 
to  an  agreement,  peace  could  easily  be  preserved. 
When  he  arrived  outside  the  town,  the  consuls  with 
naif  the  army  had  already  gone.  Pompey  was  still 
in  Brindisi,  with  12,000  men,  waiting  till  the  trans- 
ports could  return  to  carry  him  after  them.     Pompey 

1  Inclosed  to  Atticus,  viii.  11. 


Pompey  leaves  Italy.  401 

again  refused  to  see  CaBsar,  and,  in  the  absence  of  the 
consuls,  declined  further  discussion.  Csesar  tried  to 
blockade  him,  but  for  want  of  ships  was  unable  to 
close  the  harbor.  The  transports  came  back,  and 
Pompey  sailed  for  Durazzo.^ 

A  few  extracts  and  abridgments  of  letters  will 
complete  the  picture  of  this  most  interesting  time. 

Cicero  to  Atticus? 

"  Observe  the  man  into  whose  hands  we  have 
fallen.  How  keen  he  is,  how  alert,  how  well  pre- 
pared !  By  Jove,  if  he  does  not  kill  any  one,  and 
spares  the  property  of  those  who  are  so  terrified,  he 
will  be  in  high  favor.  I  talk  with  the  tradesmen  and 
farmers.  They  care  for  nothing  but  their  lands,  and 
houses,  and  money.  They  have  gone  right  round. 
They  fear  the  man  they  trusted,  and  love  the  man 
they  feared ;  and  all  this  through  our  own  blunders. 
I  am  sick  to  think  of  it." 

Balhus  to   Cicero,^ 

"  Pompey  and  Csesar  have  been  divided  by  perfidi- 
ous villains.  I  beseech  you,  Cicero,  use  your  influ- 
ence to  bring  them  together  again.  Believe  me,  Cae- 
sar will  not  only  do  all  you  wish,  but  will  hold  you  to 
have  done  him  essential  service.  Would  that  I  could 
say  as  much  of  Pompey,  who  I  rather  wish  than  hope 
may  be  brought  to  terms  !  You  have  pleased  Cajsar 
by  begging  Lentulus  to  stay  in  Italy,  and  you  have 

1  Pompey  had  for  two  years  meditated  on  the  course  which  he  Avas  now 
taking.  Atticus  had  spoken  of  the  intended  flight  from  Italy  as  base. 
Cicero  answers  :  "  Hoc  turpe  Cnaeus  noster  biennio  ante  cogitavit :  ita  Siil- 
lalurit  animus  ejus,  et  diu  proscripturit; "  "so  he  apes  Srlla  and  long* 
<or  a  proscription."  —  To  Atticus,  ix.  10. 

2  To  Atticus,  viii.  13. 

•  lucloded  to  Atticus,  viii.  15. 
26 


402  Gmar. 

more  than  pleased  me.  If  he  will  listen  to  you,  will 
trust  to  what  I  tell  him  of  Caesar,  and  will  go  back  to 
Rome,  between  you  and  him  and  the  Senate,  Caesar 
and  Pompey  may  be  reconciled.  If  I  can  see  this,  I 
shall  have  lived  long  enough.  I  know  you  will  ap- 
prove of  Csesar's  conduct  at  Corfinium." 

Cicero  to  Atticus} 

"  My  preparations  are  complete.  I  wait  till  I  Ckn 
go  by  the  upper  sea ;  I  cannot  go  by  the  lower  at  this 
season.  I  must  start  soon,  lest  I  be  detained.  I  do 
not  go  for  Pompey's  sake.  I  have  long  known  him 
to  be  the  worst  of  politicians,  and  I  know  him  now 
for  the  worst  of  generals.  I  go  because  I  am  sneered 
at  by  the  Optimates.  Precious  Optimates !  What 
are  they  about  now  ?  Selling  themselves  to  Caesar  ? 
The  towns  receive  Caesar  as  a  god.  When  this  Pisis- 
tratus  does  them  no  harm,  they  are  as  grateful  to  him 
as  if  he  had  protected  them  from  others.  What  re- 
ceptions will  they  not  give  him  ?  What  honors  will 
they  not  heap  upon  him  ?  They  are  afraid,  are  they  ? 
By  Hercules,  it  is  Pompey  that  they  are  afraid  of. 
Caesar's  treacherous  clemency  enchants  them.  Who 
are  these  Optimates,  that  insist  that  I  must  leave 
Italy,  while  they  remain  ?  Let  them  be  who  they 
may,  I  am  ashamed  to  stay,  though  I  know  what  to 
expect.  I  shall  join  a  man  who  means  not  to  con- 
quer Italy,  but  to  lay  it  waste." 

Cicero  to  Atticus.^ 

"  Ought  a  man  to  remain  in  his  country  after  it 
has  fallen  under  a  tyranny  ?  Ought  a  man  to  use 
any  means  to  overthrow  a  tyranny,  though  he  may 

1  To  Atticus,  viii.  16.  2  /&.  ix.  4. 


Cicero  on  the  Situation,  403 

ruin  his  country  in  doing  it  ?  Ought  he  not  rather 
to  try  to  mend  matters  by  argument  as  opportunity 
offers?  Is  it  right  to  make  war  on  one's  country  for 
the  sake  of  liberty  ?  Should  a  man  adhere  at  all 
risks  to  one  party,  though  he  considers  them  on  the 
whole  to  have  been  a  set  of  fools  ?  Is  a  person  who 
has  been  his  country's  greatest  benefactor,  and  has 
been  rewarded  by  envy  and  ill  usage,  to  volunteer 
into  danger  for  such  a  party  ?  May  he  not  retire, 
and  live  quietly  with  his  family,  and  leave  public 
affairs  to  their  fate  ? 

''  I  amuse  myself  as  time  passes  with  these  specu- 
lations." 

Cicero  to  Atticus.^ 

"Pompey  has  sailed.  I  am  pleased  to  find  that 
you  approve  of  my  remaining.  My  efforts  now  are 
to  persuade  Cscsar  to  allow  me  to  be  absent  from  the 
Senate,  which  is  soon  to  meet.  I  fear  he  will  refuse. 
I  have  been  deceived  in  two  points.  I  expected  an 
arrangement ;  and  now  I  perceive  that  Pompey  has 
resolved  upon  a  cruel  and  deadly  war.  By  Heaven, 
he  would  have  shown  himself  a  better  citizen,  and  a 
better  man,  had  he  borne  anything  sooner  than  have 
taken  in  hand  such  a  purpose." 

Cicero  to  AtticusJ^ 

"  Pompey  is  aiming  at  a  monarchy  after  the  type 
of  Sylla.  I  know  what  I  say.  Never  did  he  show 
his  hand  more  plainly.  Has  he  not  a  good  cause  ? 
The  very  best.  But  mark  me,  it  will  be  carried  out 
most  foully.  He  means  to  strangle  Rome  and  Italy 
with  famine,  and  then  waste  and  burn  the  country, 
ftnd  seize  the  property  of  all  who  have  any.  Cassar 
1  To  Atiicus,  ix.  6.  ^  Jb.  7  and  9. 


404  Ccesar, 

may  do  as  ill ;  but  the  prospect  is  friglitful.  The 
fleets  from  Alexandria,  Colchis,  Sidon,  Cyprus,  Pam- 
phylia,  Lycia,  Rhodes,  Chios,  Byzantium,  will  be 
employed  to  cut  off  our  supplies,  and  then  Pompey 
himself  will  come  in  his  wrath." 

Cicero  to  Aitieus.'^ 

"  I  think  I  have  been  mad  from  the  beginning  of 
this  business.  Why  did  not  I  follow  Pompey  when 
things  were  at  their  worst?  I  found  him  (at  Capua) 
full  of  fears.  I  knew  then  what  he  would  do,  and  I 
did  not  like  it.  He  made  blunder  on  blunder.  He 
never  wrote  to  me,  and  only  thought  of  flight.  It 
was  disgraceful.  But  now  my  love  for  him  revives. 
Books  and  philosophy  please  me  no  more.  Like  the 
sad  bird,  I  gaze  night  and  day  over  the  sea,  and  long 
to  fly  away.2  Were  flight  the  worst,  it  would  be 
nothing,  but  I  dread  this  terrible  war,  the  like  of 
which  has  never  been  seen.  The  word  will  be,  "  Sylla 
could  do  thus  and  thus;  and  why  should  not  I?'* 
Sylla,  Marius,  Cinna,  had  each  a  constitutional  cause ; 
yet  how  cruel  was  their  victory !  I  shrank  from  war 
because  I  saw  that  something  still  more  cruel  was 
now  intended.  I,  whom  some  have  called  the  saviour 
and  parent  of  my  country!  I  to  bring  Getes,  and 
Armenians,  and  Colchians  upon  Italy  !  I  to  famish 
my  fellow-citizens  and  waste  their  lands  !  Caesar,  I 
reflected,  was  in  the  first  place  but  mortal ;  and  then 
there  were  many  ways  in  w^hich  he  might  be  got  rid 
of .3     But,  as  you  say,  the  sun  has  fallen  out  of  the 


1  To  Atticus,  ix.  10. 

2  ^'Ita  dies  et  noctes  tanquam  avis  ilia  mare  prospecto,  evolwe  cupio." 
*    'Hunc  primum  mortalem  es«e,  deinde  etiam  multis  m(idis  extingui 

posse  cogitabain."  —  To  Atticus,  ix.  10 


Shadow  of  the  Future,  405 

sky.  The  sick  man  thinks  that  while  there  is  life 
there  is  hope.  I  continued  to  hope  as  long  as  Pom- 
pey  was  in  Italy.  Now  your  letters  are  my  only 
consolation." 

"  Caesar  was  but  mortal ! "  The  rapture  with  which 
Cicero  hailed  Caesar's  eventual  murder  explains  too 
clearly  the  direction  in  which  his  thoughts  were  al- 
ready running.  If  the  life  of  Csesar  alone  stood  be- 
tween his  country  and  the  resurrection  of  the  consti- 
tution, Cicero  might  well  think,  as  others  have  done, 
that  it  was  better  that  one  man  should  die  rather 
than  the  whole  nation  perish.  We  read  the  words 
with  sorrow,  and  yet  with  pity.  That  Cicero,  after 
his  past  flatteries  of  Caesar,  after  the  praises  which 
he  was  yet  to  heap  on  him,  should  yet  have  looked 
on  his  assassination  as  a  thing  to  be  desired,  throws  a 
saddening  light  upon  his  inner  nature.  But  the  age 
was  sick  with  a  moral  plague,  and  neither  strong  nor 
weak,  wise  nor  unwise,  bore  any  antidote  against  in- 
fection. 


CHAPTER  XXIL 

POMPEY  was  gone,  gone  to  cover  the  Mediterra- 
Aprii,  nean  with  fleets  which  were  to  starve  Italy, 
B.C. 49.  g^jj^  ^Q  raise  an  army  which  was  to  bring 
him  back  to  play  Sylla's  game  once  more.  The  con- 
suls had  gone  with  him,  more  than  half  the  Senate, 
and  the  young  patricians,  the  de3cendants  of  the  Me- 
telli  and  the  Scipios,  with  the  noble  nature  melted 
out  of  them,  and  only  the  pride  remaining.  Csesar 
would  have  chased  them  at  once,  and  have  allowed 
them  no  time  to  organize,  but  ships  were  wanting, 
and  he  could  not  wait  to  form  a  fleet.  Pompey's 
lieutenants,  Afranius  and  Petreius  and  Varro,  were 
in  Spain,  with  six  legions  and  the  levies  of  the  prov- 
ince. These  had  to  be  promptly  dealt  with,  and 
Sicily  and  Sardinia,  on  which  Rome  depended  for  its 
corn,  had  to  be  cleared  of  enemies,  and  placed  in 
trustworthy  hands.  He  sent  Curio  to  Sicily  and 
Valerius  to  Sardinia.  Both  islands  surrendered  with- 
out resistance,  Cato,  who  was  in  command  in  Mes- 
sina, complaining  openly  that  he  had  been  betrayed. 
Caasar  went  himself  to  Rome,  which  he  had  not  seen 
for  ten  years.  He  met  Cicero  by  appointment  on 
the  road,  and  pressed  him  to  attend  the  Senate. 
Cicero's  example,  he  said,  would  govern  the  rest.  If 
his  account  of  the  interview  be  true,  Cicero  showed 
more  courage  than  might  have  been  expected  from  his 
letters  to  Atticus.  He  inquired  whether,  if  he  went, 
he  might  speak  as  he  pleased ;  he  could  not  consent 


Ccesar  at  Rome.  407 

to  blame  Pompey,  and  lie  should  say  that  he  disap- 
proved of  attacks  upon  him,  either  in  Greece  or  Spain. 
Caesar  said  that  he  could  not  permit  language  of  this 
kind.  Cicero  answered  that  he  thought  as  much,  and 
therefore  preferred  to  stay  away.^  Csesar  let  him 
take  his  own  course,  and  went  on  by  himself.  The 
consuls  being  absent,  the  Senate  was  convened  b}^  the 
tribunes,  Mark  Antony  and  Cassius  Longinus,  both 
officers  in  Caesar's  army.  The  house  was  thin,  but 
those  present  were  cold  and  hostile.  They  knew  by 
this  time  that  they  need  fear  no  violence.  They  interr 
preted  Caesar's  gentleness  into  timidity,  but  they  were 
satisfied  that,  let  them  do  what  they  pleased,  he  would 
not  injure  them.  He  addressed  the  Senate  with  his 
usual  clearness  and  simplicity.  He  had  asked,  he 
said,  for  no  extraordinary  honors.  He  had  waited 
the  legal  period  of  ten  years  for  a  second  consulsliip. 
A  promise  had  been  given  that  his  name  should  be 
submitted,  and  that  promise  had  been  withdrawn. 
He  dwelt  on  his  forbearance,  on  the  concessions  which 
he  had  offered,  and  again  on  his  unjust  recall,  and 
the  violent  suppression  of  the  legal  authority  of  the 
tribunes.  He  had  proposed  terms  of  peace,  he  said ; 
he  had  asked  for  interviews,  but  all  in  vain.  If  the 
Senate  feared  to  commit  themselves  by  assisting  him, 
he  declared  his  willingness  to  carry  on  the-  govern- 
ment in  his  own  name;  but  he  invited  them  to  send 
deputies  to  Pompey,  to  treat  for  an  arrangement. 

The  Senate  approved  of  sending  a  deputation  ;  but 
Pompey  had  sworn,  on  leaving,  that  he  would  hold 
9.11  who  had  not  joined  him  as  his  enemies  ;  no  one, 
therefore,  could  be  found  willing  to  go.  Three  days 
were  spent  in  unmeaning  discussion,  and  Caesar's  sit- 

^  To  Atticus,  ii.  18. 


408  Ocesar. 

nation  did  not  allow  of  trifling.  With  such  people 
nothing  could  be  done,  and  peace  could  be  won  only 
by  the  sword.  By  an  edict  of  his  own  he  restored 
the  children  of  the  victims  of  Sylla's  proscription  to 
their  civil  rights  and  their  estates,  the  usurpers  being 
mostly  in  Pompey's  camp.  The  assembly  of  the  peo- 
ple voted  him  the  money  in  the  treasury.  Metellus, 
a  tribune  in  Pompey's  interest,  forbade  the  opening 
of  the  doors,  but  he  was  pushed  out  of  the  way.  Cae- 
sar took  such  money  as  he  needed,  and  went  with  his 
best  speed  to  join  his  troops  in  Gaul. 

His  singular  gentleness  had  encouraged  the  opposi- 
tion to  him  in  Rome.     In  Gaul  he  encoun- 

B.  C.  49. 

tered  another  result  of  his  forbearance  more 
practically  trying.  The  Gauls  themselves,  though  so 
lately  conquered  in  so  desperate  a  struggle,  remained 
quiet.  Then,  if  ever,  they  had  an  opportunity  of  re- 
asserting their  independence.  They  not  only  did  not 
take  advantage  of  it,  but,  as  if  they  disdained  the 
unworthy  treatment  of  their  great  enemy,  each  tribe 
sent  him,  at  his  request,  a  bod}^  of  horse,  led  by  the 
bravest  of  their  chiefs.  His  difficulty  came  from  a 
more  tainted  source.  Marseilles,  the  most  important 
port  in  the  western  Mediterranean,  the  gate  through 
which  the  trade  of  the  province  passed  in  and  out, 
had  revolted  to  Pompey.  Domitius  Ahenobarbus, 
who  had  been  dismissed  at  Corfinium,  had  been  dis- 
patched to  encourage  and  assist  the  townspeople  with 
a  squadron  of  Pompey's  fleet.  When  Csesar  arrived, 
Marseilles  closed  its  gates,  and  refused  to  receive  him. 
He  could  not  afford  to  leave  behind  him  an  open  door 
into  the  province,  and  he  could  ill  spare  troops  for  a 
siege.  Afranius  and  Petreius  were  already  over  the 
Ebro  with  30,000  legionaries  and  with  nearly  twice 


The  Spanish   Campaign,  409 

as  many  Spanisli  auxiliaries.  Yet  Marseilles  must 
be  shut  in,  and  qaickl}^  Fabius  was  sent  forward  to 
hold  the  passes  of  the  Pyrenees.  Caesar's  soldiers 
were  set  to  work  in  the  forest.  Trees  were  cut  down 
and  sawn  into  planks.  In  thirty  days  twelve  stout 
vessels,  able  to  hold  their  own  against  Domitius,  were 
built  and  launched  and  manned.  The  fleet  thus  ex- 
temporized was  trusted  to  Decimus  Brutus.  Three 
legions  were  left  to  make  approaches,  and,  if  possible, 
to  take  the  town  on  the  land  side ;  and,  leaving  Mar- 
seilles blockaded  by  sea  and  land,  Csesar  hurried  on 
to  the  Spanish  frontier.  The  problem  before  him 
was  worthy  of  his  genius.  A  protracted  war  in  the 
peninsula  would  be  fatal.  Pompey  would  return  to 
Italy,  and  there  would  be  no  one  to  oppose  him  there. 
The  Spanisli  army  had  to  be  destroyed  or  captured, 
and  that  immediately ;  and  it  was  stronger  than  Cse- 
sar's  own,  and  was  backed  by  all  the  resources  of  the 
province. 

The  details  of  a  Roman  campaign  are  no  longer  in- 
teresting. The  results,  with  an  outline  of  the  means 
by  which  they  were  brought  about,  alone  concern  the 
modern  reader.  Pompey 's  lieutenants,  having  failed 
to  secure  the  passes,  was  lying  at  Lerida,  in  Catalo- 
nia, at  the  junction  of  the  Segre  and  the  Naguera, 
with  the  Ebro  behind  them,  and  with  a  mountain 
range,  the  Sierra  de  Llena,  on  their  right  flank. 
Their  position  was  impregnable  to  direct  attack. 
From  their  rear  they  drew  inexhaustible  supplies. 
The  country  in  front  had  been  laid  waste  to  the 
Pyrenees,  and  everything  which  Caesar  required  had 
to  be  brought  to  him  from  Gaul.  In  forty  days  from 
thft  time  at  which  the  armies  came  in  sight  of  each 
otner  Afranius  and  Petreius,  with  all  their  legions, 


410  Ccesar. 

were  prisoners.  Varro,  in  the  south,  was  begging  for 
peace,  and  all  Spain  lay  at  Caesar's  feet.  At  one 
moment  he  was  almost  lost.  The  melting  of  the 
snows  on  the  mountains  brought  a  flood  down  the 
Segre.  The  bridges  were  carried  away,  the  fords 
were  impassable,  and  his  convoys  were  at  the  mercy 
of  the  enemy.  News  flew  to  Rome  that  all  was  over, 
that  Caesar's  army  was  starving,  that  he  was  cut  off 
between  the  rivers,  and  in  a  few  days  must  surren- 
der. Marseilles  still  held  out.  Poinpey's,  it  seemeH, 
was  to  be  the  winning  side,  and  Cicero  and  many 
others,  who  had  hung  back  to  watch  how  events 
would  turn,  made  haste  to  join  their  friends  in 
Greece  before  their  going  had  lost  show  of  credit.^ 

1  "  Tullia  bids  me  wait  till  I  see  how  things  go  in  Spain,  and  she  says 
you  are  of  the  same  opinion.  The  advice  would  be  good,  if  I  could  adapt 
my  conduct  to  the  issue  of  events  there.  But  one  of  three  alternatives 
must  happen.  Either  Caesar  will  be  driven  back,  which  would  please  me 
best,  or  the  war  will  be  protracted,  or  he  will  be  completely  victorious 
If  he  is  defeated,  Pompey  will  thank  me  little  for  joining  him.  Curi(? 
himself  will  then  go  over  to  him.  If  the  war  hangs  on,  how  long  am  I  to 
wait  ?  If  Caesar  conquers,  it  is  thought  we  may  then  have  peace.  But  I 
consider,  on  the  other  hand,  that  it  would  be  more  decent  to  forsake  Caesar 
in  success  than  when  beaten  and  in  difficulties.  The  victory  of  Caesar 
means  massacre,  confiscation,  recall  of  exiles,  a  clean  sweep  of  debts, 
every  worst  man  raised  to  honor,  and  a  rule  which  not  only  a  Roman  cit- 
izen but  a  Persian  could  not  endure Pompey  will  not  lay  doAvn  his 

arms  for  the  loss  of  Spain ;  he  holds  with  Themistocles  that  those  who  are 
masters  at  sea  will  be  the  victors  in  the  end.  He  has  neglected  Spain.. 
He  has  given  all  his  care  to  his  ships.  When  the  time  comes  he  will  i-e- 
turn  to  Italy  with  an  overwhelming  fleet.  And  what  will  he  say  to  me  if  he 
finds  me  still  sitting  here?  —  Let  alone  dut}',  I  must  think  of  the  danger. 
....  Every  course  has  its  perils  ;  but  I  should  surely  avoid  a  course 
is  which  both  ignominious  and  perilous  also. 

"  I  did  not  accompany  Pompey  when  he  went  himself?  I  could  not  i 
had  not  time.  And  yet,  to  confess  the  truth,  I  made  a  mistake  which, 
perhaps,  I  should  not  have  made.  I  thought  there  would  be  peace,  and 
I  would  not  have  Caesar  angry  with  me  after  he  and  Pompe}'  had  become 
friends  again.  Thus  I  hesitated ;  but  I  can  overtake  my  fault  if  I  lose  no 
more  time,  and  I  am  lost  if  I  delay.  —  I  see  that  Ciiesar  cannot  stand  long 
He  will  fall  of  himself  if  we  do  nothing.  When  his  affairs  were  most 
flourishing,  he  became  unpopular  with  the  hungry  rabble  of  the  city  in  six 


The  Sjyanish   Campaign.  411 

The  situation  was  indeed  most  critical.  Even  Cae- 
sar's own  soldiers  became  unsteady.  He  remarks 
that  in  civil  wars  generally  men  show  less  composure 
than  in  ordinary  campaigns.  But  resource  in  diffi- 
culties is  the  distinction  of  great  generals.  He  had 
observed  in  Britain  that  the  coast  fishermen  used 
boats  made  out  of  frames  of  wicker  covered  with 
skins.  The  river  banks  were  fringed  with  willows. 
There  were  hides  in  abundance  on  the  carcases  of  the 
animals  in  the  camp.  Swiftly  in  these  vessels  the 
swollen  waters  of  the  Segre  were  crossed;  the  con- 
voys were  rescued.  The  broken  bridges  were  re- 
paired. The  communications  of  the  Pompeians  were 
threatened  in  turn,  and  they  tried  to  fall  back  over 
the  Ebro  ;  but  they  left  their  position  only  to  be  in- 
tercepted, and  after  a  few  feeble  struggles  laid  down 
their  arms.  Among  the  prisoners  were  found  several 
of  the  young  nobles  who  had  been  released  at  Cor- 
finium.  It  appeared  that  they  regarded  Csesar  as 
an  outlaw  with  whom  obligations  were  not  binding. 
The  Pompeian  generals  had  ordered  any  of  Caesar's 
soldiers  who  fell  into  their  hands  to  be  murdered. 
He  was  not  provoked  into  retaliation.  He  again  dis- 
missed the  whole  of  the  captive  force,  officers  and  men, 
contenting  himself  with  this  time  exacting  a  promise 
from  them  that  they  would  not  serve  against  him 

or  seven  daj's.  He  could  not  keep  up  the  mask.  His  harshness  to  Metellus 
destroyed  his  credit  for  clemency,  and  his  taking  money  from  the  treas- 
ury destroyed  his  reputation  for  riches. 

"As  to  his  followers,  how  can  men  govern  provinces  who  cannot  man- 
age their  own  affairs  for  two  months  together  ?     Such  a  monarchy  could 

not  last  half  a  year.    The  wisest  men  have  miscalcjiated If  that  is 

my  case,  I  must  bear  the  reproach but  I  am  sure  it  will  be  as  I 

say.    Cajsar  will  fall,  either  by  his  enemies  or  by  himself,  who  is  his  worst 

enemy I  hope  1  may  live  to  see  it,  though  you  and  I  should  be 

thinking  more  of  the  other  life  than  of  this  transitory  one;  but  so  it  comeg 
MO  matter  whether  I  see  it  or  foresee  it."  —  To  Atticus,  x.  8. 


412  Cces^ar, 

again.  They  gave  their  word  and  broke  it.  The 
generals  and  military  tribunes  made  their  way  to 
Greece  to  Pompey.  Of  the  rest  some  enlisted  in 
Caesar's  legions ;  others  scattered  to  combine  again 
when  opportunity  allowed. 

Varro,  who  commanded  a  legion  in  the  south,  be- 
haved more  honorably.  He  sent  in  his  submission, 
entered  into  the  same  engagement,  and  kept  it.  He 
was  an  old  friend  of  Caesar's,  and  better  understood 
him.  Caesar,  after  the  victory  at  Lerida,  went  down 
to  Cordova,  and  summoned  the  leading  Spaniards 
and  Romans  to  meet  him  there.  All  came  and 
promised  obedience.  Varro  gave  in  his  accounts, 
with  his  ships,  and  stores,  and  money.  Caesar  then 
embarked  at  Cadiz,  and  went  round  to  Tarragona, 
where  his  own  legions  were  waiting  for  him.  From 
Tarragona  he  marched  back  by  the  Pyrenees,  and 
came  in  time  to  receive  in  person  the  surrender  of 
Marseilles. 

The  siege  had  been  a  difficult  one,  with  severe  en- 
gagements both  by  land  and  sea.  Domitius  and  his 
galleys  had  attacked  the  ungainly  but  useful  vessels 
which  Caesar  had  extemporized.  He  had  been  driven 
back  with  the  loss  of  half  his  fleet.  Pompey  had 
sent  a  second  squadron  to  help  him,  and  this  had 
fared  no  better.  It  had  fled  after  a  single  battle  and 
never  reappeared.  The  land  works  had  been  assailed 
with  ingenuity  and  courage.  The  agger  had  been 
burnt  and  the  siege  towers  destroyed.  But  they  had 
been  repaired  instantly  by  the  industry  of  the  legions, 
and  Marseilles  was  at  the  last  extremity  when  Caesar 
arrived.  He  had  wished  to  spare  the  townspeople, 
and  had  sent  orders  that  the  place  was  not  to  be 
stormed.     On  his  appearance  the  keys  of  the  gates 


State  of  Rome,  413 

were  brought  to  him  without  conditions.  Again  he 
pardoned  every  one  ;  more,  he  said,  for  the  reputa- 
tion of  the  colony  than  for  the  merits  of  its  inhab- 
itants. Domitius  had  fled  in  a  gale  of  wind,  and 
once  more  escaped.  A  third  time  he  was  not  to  be 
so  fortunate. 

Two  legions  were  left  in  charge  of  Marseilles ; 
others  returned  to  their  quarters  in  Gaul.  Well  as 
the  tribes  had  behaved,  it  was  unsafe  to  presume  too 
much  on  their  fidelity,  and  CaBSar  was  not  a  parti- 
san chief,  but  the  guardian  of  the  Roman  Empire. 
With  the  rest  of  his  army  he  returned  to  Rome  at 
the  beginning  of  the  winter.  All  had  been  quiet 
since  the  news  of  the  capitulation  at  Lerida.  The 
aristocracy  had  gone  to  Pompey.  The  disaffection 
among  the  people  of  which  Cicero  spoke  had  existed 
onl}^  in  his  wishes,  or  had  not  extended  beyond  the 
classes  who  had  expected  from  Csesar  a  general  parti- 
tion of  property,  and  had  been  disappointed.  His 
own  successes  had  been  brilliant.  Spain,  Gaul,  and 
Italy,  Sicily  and  Sardinia,  were  entirely  his  own. 
Elsewhere  and  away  from  his  own  eye  things  had 
gone  less  well  for  him.  An  attempt  to  make  a  naval 
force  in  the  Adriatic  had  failed ;  and  young  Curio, 
who  had  done  Csesar  such  good  service  as  tribune, 
had  met  with  a  still  graver  disaster.  After  recover- 
ing Sicily,  Curio  had  been  directed  to  cross  to  Africa 
and  expel  Pompey's  garrisons  from  the  province. 
His  troops  were  inferior,  consisting  chiefly  of  the  gar- 
rison which  had  surrendered  at  Corfinium. 
Through  military  inexperience  he  had  fallen 
into  a  trap  laid  for  him  by  Juba,  King  of  Mauritania, 
and  had  been  killed. 

Caesar  regretted  Curio  personally.      The  African 


414  Ccesar, 

misfortune  was  not  considerable  in  itself,  but  it  en- 
couraged liopes  and  involved  consequences  which  he 
probably  foresaw.  There  was  no  present  leisure, 
however,  to  attend  to  Juba.  On  arriving  at  the  city- 
he  was  named  Dictator.  As  Dictator  he  held  the 
consular  elections,  and,  with  Servilius  Isauricus  for  a 
colleague,  he  was  chosen  consul  for  the  year  which 
had  been  promised  to  him,  though  under  circum- 
Btances  so  strangely  changed.  With  curious  punctil- 
iousness he  observed  that  the  legal  interval  had  ex- 
pired since  he  was  last  in  office,  and  that  therefore 
there  was  no  formal  objection  to  his  appointment. 

Civil  affairs  were  in  the  wildest  confusion.  The 
Senate  had  fled  ;  the  administration  had  been  left 
to  Antony,  whose  knowledge  of  business  was  not  of 
a  high  order ;  and  over  the  whole  of  Italy  hung 
the  terror  of  Pompey's  fleet  and  of  an  Asiatic  inva- 
sion. Public  credit  was  shaken.  Debts  had  not  been 
paid  since  the  civil  war  began.  Money-lenders  had 
charged  usurious  interest  for  default,  and  debtors 
were  crying  for  novoe  tahulce,  and  hoped  to  clear  them- 
selves by  bankruptcy.  Csesar  had  but  small  leisure 
for  such  matters.  Pompey  had  been  allowed  too 
long  a  respite,  and  unless  he  sought  Pompey  in 
Greece  Pompey  would  be  seeking  him  at  home,  and 
the  horrid  scenes  of  Sylla's  wars  would  be  enacted 
over  again.  He  did  what  he  could,  risking  the  loss 
of  the  favor  of  the  mob  by  disappointing  dishonest 
expectations.  Estimates  were  drawn  of  all  debts  as 
they  stood  twelve  months  before.  The  principal  was 
declared  to  be  still  due.  The  interest  for  the  inter- 
val was  cancelled.  Many  persons  complained  of  in- 
justice which  they  had  met  with  in  the  courts  of  law 
during  the  time  that  Pompey  was  in  power.     Csesar 


Coesar  at  Brindisi.  415 

refused  to  revise  the  sentences  Mmself,  lest  he  should 
seem  to  be  encroaching  on  functions  not  belonging 
to  him  ;  but  he  directed  that  such  causes  should  be 
heard  again. 

Eleven  days  were  all  he  could  afford  to  Rome.  So 
swift  was  Caesar  that  his  greatest  exploits  were  meas- 
ured by  days.  He  had  to  settle  accounts  with  Pom- 
pey  while  it  was  still  winter,  and  while  Pompey's 
preparations  for  the  invasion  of  Italy  were  still  in- 
complete ;  and  he, and  his  veterans,  scarcely  allowing 
themselves  a  breathing-time,  went  down  to  Brindisi. 

It  was  now  the  beginning  of  January  by  the  unre- 
formed  calendar  (by  the  seasons  the  middle  of  Oc- 
tober) —  a  year  within  a  few  days  since  Caesar  had 
crossed  the  Rubicon.  He  had  nominally  twelve  le- 
gions under  him.  But  long  marches  had  thinned  the 
ranks  of  his  old  and  best-tried  troops.  The  change 
from  the  dry  climate  of  Gaul  and  Spain  to  the  South 
of  Italy  in  a  wet  autumn  had  affected  the  health  of 
the  rest,  and  there  were  many  invalids.  The  force 
available  for  field  service  was  small  for  the  work 
which  was  before  it :  in  all  not  more  than  30,000 
men.  Pompey's  army  lay  immediately  opposite  Brin- 
disi, at  Durazzo.  It  was  described  afterwards  as  in- 
harmonious and  ill-disciplined,  but  so  far  as  report 
went  at  the  time  Caesar  had  never  encountered  so  for- 
midable an  enemy.  There  were  nine  legions  of  Ro- 
man citizens  with  their  complements  full.  Two  more 
were  coming  up  with  Scipio  from  Syria.  Besides 
these  there  were  auxiliaries  from  the  allied  princes  in 
the  East ;  corps  from  Greece  and  Asia  Minor,  sling- 
ers  and  archers  from  Crete  and  the  islands.  Of 
money,  of  stores  of  all  kinds,  there  was  abundance, 
for  the  Eastern  revenue  had  been  all  paid  for  the  last 


il6  Ccesar. 

year  to  Pompey,  and  he  had  levied  impositions  at  his 
pleasure. 

Such  was  the  Senate's  land  army,  and  before  Caesar 
could  cross  swords  with  it  a  worse  danger  lay  in  his 
path.  It  was  not  for  nothing  that  Cicero  said  that 
Pompey  had  been  careful  of  his  fleet.  A  hundred  and 
thirty  ships,  the  best  which  were  to  be  had,  were  dis- 
posed in  squadrons  along  the  east  shore  of  the  Adri- 
atic ;  the  headquarters  were  at  Corfu  ;  and  the  one 
purpose  was  to  watch  the  passage  and  prevent  Caesar 
from  crossing  over. 

Transports  run  down  by  vessels  of  war  were  in- 
evitably sunk.  Twelve  fighting  triremes,  the  remains 
of  his  attempted  Adriatic  fleet,  were  all  that  Caesar 
could  collect  for  a  convoy.  The  weather  was  wild. 
Even  of  transports  he  had  but  enough  to  carry  half 
his  army  in  a  single  trip.  With  such  a  prospect  and 
with  the  knowledge  that  if  he  reached  Greece  at  all 
he  would  have  to  land  in  the  immediate  neighbor- 
hood of  Pompey's  enormous  host,  surprise  has  been 
expressed  that  Caesar  did  not  prefer  to  go  round 
through  Illyria,  keeping  his  legions  together.  But 
Caesar  had  won  many  victories  by  appearing  where 
he  was  least  expected.  He  liked  well  to  descend 
like  a  bolt  out  of  the  blue  sky ;  and,  for  the  very 
reason  that  no- ordinary  person  would  under  such  cir- 
custances  have  thought  of  attempting  the  passage,  he 
determined  to  try  it.  Long  marches  exhausted  the 
troops.  In  bad  weather  the  enemy's  fleet  preferred 
the  harbors  to  the  open  sea;  and  perhaps  he  had 
a  further  and  special  ground  of  confidence  in  know- 
ing that  the  officer  in  charge  at  Corfu  was  his  old 
acquaintance,  Bibulus  —  Bibulus,  the  fool  of  the 
aristocracy,  the  butt  of   Cicero,  who  had  failed  in 


Ccesar  goes  to  Gi-eece.  417 

everything  which  he  had  undertaken,  and  had  been 
thanked  by  Cato  for  his  ill  successes.  Csesar  knew 
the  men  with  whom  he  had  to  deal.  He  knew  Pom- 
pey's  incapacity  ;  he  knew  Bibulus's  incapacity.  He 
kn^w  that  public  feeling  among  the  people  was  as 


much  on  his  side  in   Greece   as  in .  Italy,  janu 
Above  all,  he  knew  his  own  troops,  and  felt  ^-  ^ 


¥.' 


that  he  could  rely  on  them,  however  heavy  the  odds 
might  be.  He  was  resolved  to  save  Italy  at  all  haz- 
ards from  becoming  the  theatre  of  war,  and  therefore 
the  best  road  for  him  was  that  which  would  lead 
most  swiftly  to  his  end. 

On  the  4th  January,  then,  by  unreformed  time, 
Caesar  sailed  with  15,000  men  and  500  horse  from 
Brindisi.  The  passage  was  rough  but  swift,  and  he 
landed  without  adventure  at  Acroceraunia,  now  Cape 
Linguetta,  on  the  eastern  shore  of  the  Straits  of 
Otranto.  Bibulus  saw  him  pass  from  the  heights  of 
Corfu,  and  put  to  sea,  too  late  to  intercept  him  —  in 
time,  however,  unfortunately,  to  fall  in  with  the  re- 
turning transports.  Caesar  had  started  them  immedi- 
ately after  disembarking,  and  had  they  made  use  of 
the  darkness  they  might  have  gone  over  unperceived ; 
they  lingered  and  were  overtaken ;  Bibulus  captured 
thirty  of  them,  and,  in  rage  at  his  own  blunder, 
killed  every  one  that  he  found  on  board. 

Ignorant  of  this  misfortune,  and  expecting  that 
Antony  would  follow  him  in  a  day  or  two  with  the 
remainder  of  the  army,  Caesar  advanced  at  once  to- 
wards Durazzo,  occupied  Apollonia,  and  intrenched 
himself  on  the  left  bank  of  the  river  Apsus.  The 
country,  as  he  anticipated,  was  well-disposed  and  fur- 
nished him  amply  with  supplies.  He  still  hoped  to 
persuade  Pompey  to  come  to  terms  with  him.     He 

27 


il8  Coesar, 

trusted,  perhaps  not  unreasonably,  that  the  generos- 
ity with  which  he  had  treated  Marseilles  and  the 
Spanish  legions  might  have  produced  an  effect ;  and 
he  appealed  once  more  to  Pompey's  wiser  judgment. 
VibuUius  Rufus,  who  had  been  taken  at  Corfinium, 
and  a  second  time  on  the  Lerida,  had  since  remained 
with  Caesar.  Rufus,  being  personally  known  as  an 
ardent  member  of  the  Pompeian  party,  was  sent  for- 
ward to  Durazzo  with  a  message  of  peace. 

'' Enough  had  been  done,"  Caesar  said,  "  and  For- 
tune ought  not  to  be  tempted  further.  Pompey  had 
lost  Italy,  the  two  Spains,  Sicily,  and  Sardinia,  and  a 
hundred  and  thirty  cohorts  of  his  soldiers  had  been 
captured.  Caesar  had  lost  Curio  and  the  army  of 
Africa.  They  were  thus  on  an  equality,  and  might 
spare  their  country  the  consequences  of  further  ri- 
valry. If  either  he  or  Pompey  gained  a  decisive  ad- 
vantage, the  victor  would  be  compelled  to  insist  on 
harder  terms.  If  they  could  not  agree,  Ca3sar  was 
willing  to  leave  the  question  between  them  to  the 
Senate  and  people  of  Rome,  and  for  themselves,  he 
proposed  that  they  should  each  take  an  oath  to  dis- 
band their  troops  in  three  days." 

Pompey,  not  expecting  Caesar,  was  absent  in  Ma- 
cedonia when  he  heard  of  his  arrival,  and  was  hurry- 
ing back  to  Durazzo.  Caesar's  landing  had  produced 
a  panic  in  his  camp.  Men  and  officers  were  looking 
anxiously  in  each  other's  faces.  So  great  was  the 
alarm,  so  general  the  distrust,  that  Labienus  had 
sworn  in  the  presence  of  the  army  that  he  would 
Btand  faithfully  by  Pompey.  Generals,  tribunes,  and 
wenturions  had  sworn  after  him.  They  had  then 
moved  up  to  the  Apsus  and  encamped  on  the  oppo- 
site side  of  the  river,  waiting  for  Pompey  to  come  up, 


Death  of  Bihulus.  419 

There  was  now  a  pause  on  both  sides.  Antony- 
was  unable  to  leave  Brindisi,  Bibulus  being  on  the 
watch  day  and  night.  A  single  vessel  attempted 
the  passage.  It  was  taken,  and  every  one  on  board 
was  massacred.  The  weather  was  still  wild,  and 
both  sides  suffered.  If  Caesar's  transports  could  not 
put  to  sea,  Bibulus's  crews  could  not  land  either  for 
fuel  or  water  .anywhere  south  of  Apollonia.  Bibulus 
held  on  obstinately  till  he  died  of  exposure  to  wet 
and  cold,  so  ending  his  useless  life  ;  but  his  death  did 
not  affect  the  situation  favorably  for  Csesar;  his  com- 
mand fell  into  abler  hands. 

At  length  Pompey  arrived.    Vibullius  Rufus  deliv- 
ered his  message.     Pompey  would  not  hear   February, 
him  to  the  end.     "What  care  I,"  he  said,    ^^^■^^^ 
"  for  life  or  country  if  I  am  to  hold  both  by  the  fa- 
vor of  Caesar  ?     All  men  will  think  thus  of  me  if  I 

make  peace  now I   left  Italy.     Men  will  say 

that  Caesar  has  brought  me  back." 

In  the  legions  the  opinion  was  different.  The  two 
armies  were  divided  only  by  a  narrow  river.  Friends 
met  and  talked.  They  asked  each  other  for  what 
purpose  so  desperate  a  war  had  been  undertaken. 
The  regular  troops  all  idolized  Csesar.  Deputations 
from  both  sides  were  chosen  to  converse  and  consult, 
with  Csesar's  warmest  approval.  Some  arrangement 
might  have  followed.  But  Labienus  interposed.  He 
appeared  at  the  meeting  as  if  to  join  in  the  confer- 
ence ;  he  was  talking  in  apparent  friendliness  to 
Cicero's  acquaintance,  Publius  Vatinius,  who  was 
serving  with  Caesar.  Suddenly  a  shower  of  daifcs 
were  hurled  at  Vatinius.  His  men  flung  themselves 
in  front  of  him  and  covered  his  body;  but  most  of 
them  were  wounded,  and  the  assembly  broke  up  in 


420  CcBsar, 

confusion,  Labienus  shouting,  "  Leave  your  talk  of 
composition  ;  there  can  be  no  peace  till  you  bring  us 
Caesar's  head." 

Cool  thinkers  were  beginning  to  believe  that  Caesar 
was  in  a  scrape  from  which  his  good  fortune  would 
this  time  fail  to  save  him.  Italy  was  on  the  whole 
steady,  but  the  slippery  politicians  in  the  capital  were 
on  the  watch.  They  had  been  disappointed  on  find- 
ing that  Caesar  would  give  no  sanction  to  confisca- 
tion of  property,  and  a  spark  of  fire  burst  out  which 
showed  that  the  elements  of  mischief  were  active  as 
ever.  Cicero's  correspondent,  Marcus  Caelius,  had 
thrown  himself  eagerly  on  Caesar's  side  at  the  begin- 
ning of  the  war.  He  had  been  left  as  praetor  at 
Rome  when  Caesar  went  to  Greece.  He  in  his  wis- 
dom conceived  that  the  wind  was  changing,  and  that 
it  was  time  for  him  to  earn  his  pardon  from  Pompey. 
He  told  the  mob  that  Caesar  would  do  nothing  for 
them,  that  Caesar  cared  only  for  his  capitalists.  He 
April,  wrote  privately  to  Cicero  that  he  was  bring- 

B.  c.  48.  'j^g  them  over  to  Pompey,^  and  he  was  do- 
ing it  in  the  way  in  which  pretended  revolutionists 
so  often  play  into  the  hands  of  reactionaries.  He 
proposed  a  law  in  the  assembly  in  the  spirit  of  Jack 
Cade,  that  no  debts  should  be  paid  in  Rome  for  six 
years,  and  that  every  tenant  should  occupy  his  house 
for  two  years  free  of  rent.  The  administrators  of 
vhe  Government  treated  him  as  a  madman,  and  de- 
posed him  from  office.  He  left  the  city  pretending 
that  he  was  going  to  Caesar.  The  once  notorious 
Milo,  who  had  been  in  exile  since  his  trial  for  the 

-  "Nam  liic  nunc  prseter  foeneratores  paucos  nee  homo  nee  ordo  qais- 
qum  ett  nisi  Pompeianus.  Equidem  jam  effeci  ut  maxime  plebs  et  qui 
witea  noster  fuit  populus  vestser  esset."  —  Caelius  to  Cicero,  Ad  Fam.  viii. 
17. 


Antony  Sails  for  Greece,  421 

murder  of  Clodius,  privately  joined  him ;  and  to- 
gether they  raised  a  band  of  gladiators  in  Campania, 
professing  to  have  a  commission  from  Pompey.  Milo 
was  killed.  Caelius  fled  to  Thurii,  where  he  tried  to 
seduce  Csesar's  garrison,  and  was  put  to  death  for  his 
treachery.  The  familiar  actors  in  the  drama  were 
beginning  to  drop.  Bibulus  was  gone,  and  now  Cas- 
lius  and  Milo.  Fools  and  knaves  are  usually  the  first 
to  fall  in  civil  distractions,  as  they  and  their  works 
are  the  active  causes  of  them. 

Meantime  months  passed  away.  The  winter  wore 
through  in  forced  inaction,  and  Csesar  watched  in 
vain  for  the  sails  of  his  coming  transports.  The 
Pompeians  had  for  some  weeks  blockaded  Brindisi. 
Antony  drove  them  off  with  armed  boats ;  but  still 
he  did  not  start,  and  Caesar  thought  that  opportuni- 
ties had  been  missed.^  He  wrote  to  Antony  sharply. 
The  legions,  true  as  steel,  were  ready  for  any  risks 
sooner  than  leave  their  commander  in  danger.  A 
Bouth  wind  came  at  last,  and  they  sailed.  They 
were  seen  in  mid-channel,  and  closely  pursued. 
Night  fell,  and  in  the  darkness  they  were  swept  past 
Durazzo,  to  which  Pompey  had  again  withdrawn, 
with  the  Pompeian  squadron  in  full  chase  behind 
them.  They  ran  into  the  harbor  of  Nymphsea,  three 
miles  north  of  Lissa,  and  were  fortunate  in  entering 
it  safely.  Sixteen  of  the  pursuers  ran  upon  the 
rocks,  and  the  crews  owed  their  lives  to  Cassar's 
troops,  who  saved  them.  So  Caesar  mentions  briefly, 
in  silent  contrast  to  the  unvarying  ferocity  of  the 
Pompeian  leaders.     Two  only  of  the  transports  which 

1  Caesar  says  nothing  of  his  putting  to  sea  in  a  boat,  meaning  to  go 
over  in  person^  and  being  driven  back  by  the  weather.  The  story  is 
probably  no  more  than  one  of  the  picturesque  additions  to  reality  made  by 
fien  who  find  truth  too  tame  for  them. 


422  Ccesar, 

had  left  Brindisi  were  missing  in  the  morning. 
They  had  gone  by  mistake  into  Lissa,  and  were  sur- 
rounded by  the  boats  of  the  enemy,  who  promised 
that  no  one  should  be  injured  if  they  surrendered, 
"Here,"  says  Caesar,  in  a  characteristic  sentence, 
"  may  be  observed  the  value  of  firmness  of  mind." 
One  of  the  vessels  had  two  hundred  and  twenty 
young  soldiers  on  board,  the  other  two  hundred 
veterans.  The  recruits  were  sea-sick  and  frightened. 
They  trusted  the  enemy's  fair  words,  and  were  im- 
mediately murdered.  The  others  forced  their  pilot 
to  run  the  ship  ashore.  They  cut  their  way  through 
a  band  of  Pompey's  cavalry,  and  joined  their  com- 
rades without  the  loss  of  a  man. 

Antony's  position  was  most  dangerous,  for  Pompey's 
whole  army  lay  between  him  and  Caesar ;  but  Caesar 
marched  rapidly  round  Durazzo,  and  had  joined  his 
friend  before  Pompey  knew  that  he  had  moved. 

Though  still  far  outnumbered,  Caesar  was  now  in  a 
condition  to  meet  Pompey  in  the  field,  and  desired 
nothing  so  much  as  a  decisive  action.  Pompey  would 
not  give  him  the  opportunity,  and  kept  within  his 
lines.  To  show  the  world,  therefore,  how  matters 
stood  between  them,  Caesar  drew  a  line  of  strongly 
fortified  posts,  round  Pompey's  camp  and  shut  him 
in.  Force  him  to  a  surrender  he  could  not,  for  the 
pea  was  open,  and  Pompey's  fleet  had  entire  com- 
mand of  it.  But  the  moral  effect  on  Italy  of  the 
news  that  Pompey  was  besieged  might,  it  was  hoped, 
force  him  out  from  his  intrenchments.  If  Pompey 
May,  could  not  venture  to  engage  Csesar  on  his 

*•  ^-  ^-  own  chosen  ground,  and  surrounded  by  his 
Eastern  friends,  his  cause  at  home  would  be  aban- 
doned  as   lost.     Nor   was  the   active   injury   which 


Siege  of  Durazzo.  423 

Caesar  was  able  to  inflict  inconsiderable.  He  turned 
the  streams  on  which  Pompey's  camp  depended  for 
water.  The  horses  and  cattle  died.  Fever  set  in 
with  other  inconveniences.  The  labor  of  the  siege 
was,  of  course,  severe.  The  lines  were  many  miles 
in  length,  and  the  diJ0B.culty  of  sending  assistance  to 
a  point  threatened  by  a  sally  was  extremely  great. 
The  corn  in  the  fields  was  still  green,  and  supplies 
grew  scanty.  Meat  Caesar's  army  had,  but  of  wheat 
little  or  none ;  they  were  used  to  hardship,  however, 
and  bore  it  with  admirable  humor.  They  made 
cakes  out  of  roots,  ground  into  paste  and  mixed  with 
milk  ;  and  thus,  in  spite  of  privation  and  severe  work, 
they  remained  in  good  health,  and  deserters  daily 
came  in  to  them. 

So  the  siege  of  Durazzo  wore  on,  diversified  with 
occasional  encounters,  which  Caesar  details  with  the 
minuteness  of  a  scientific  general  writing  for  his  pro- 
fession, and  with  those  admiring  mentions  of  each  in- 
dividual act  of  courage  which  so  intensely  endeared 
him  to  his  troops.  Once  an  accidental  opportunity 
offered  itself  for  a  successful  storm,  but  Caesar  was 
not  on  the  spot.  The  ofiicer  in  command  shrank 
from  responsibility  ;  and,  notwithstanding  the  seri- 
ousness of  the  consequences,  Caesar  said  that  the 
officer  was  right. 

Pompey's  army  was  not  yet  complete.  Metellus 
Scipio  had  not  arrived  with  the  Syrian  legions. 
Scipio  had  come  leisurely  through  Asia  Minor,  plun- 
dering cities  and  temples  and  flaying  the  people  with 
requisitions.  He  had  now  reached  Macedonia,  and 
Domitius  Calvinus  had  been  sent  with  a  separate 
command  to  watch  him.  Caesar's  own  force,  already 
ioo  small  for  the  business  on  hand,  was  thus  further 


424  Ccesar, 

reduced,  and  at  this  moment  there  fell  out -one  of 
j^jjg  those  accidents  which  overtake  at  times  the 

B.C. 48.  ablest  commanders,  and  gave  occasion  for 
Caesar's  observation,  that  Pompey  knew  not  how  to 
conquer. 

There  were  two  young  Gauls  with  Caesar  whom  he 
liad  promoted  to  important  positions.  They  were  re- 
ported to  have  committed  various  peculations.  Caesar 
spoke  to  them  privately.  They  took  offence  and  de- 
serted. There  was  a  weak  spot  in  Caesar's  lines  at 
a  point  the  furthest  removed  from  the  body  of  the 
army.  The  Gauls  gave  Pompey  notice  of  it,  and  on 
this  point  Pompey  flung  himself  with  his  whole 
strength.  The  attack  was  a  surprise.  The  engage- 
ment which  followed  was  desperate  and  unequal,  for 
the  reliefs  were  distant  and  came  up  one  by  one. 
For  once  Caesar's  soldiers  were  seized  with  panic,  lost 
their  order,  and  forgot  their  discipline.  On  the  news 
of  danger  ho  flew  himself  to  the  scene,  threw  himself 
into  the  thickest  of  the  fight,  and  snatched  the  stand- 
ards from  the  flying  bearers.  But  on  this  single  occa- 
sion he  failed  in  restoring  confidence.  The  defeat 
was  complete ;  and,  had  Pompey  understood  his  busi- 
ness, Caesar's  whole  army  might  have  been  over- 
thrown. Nearly  a  thousand  men  were  killed,  with 
many  field  officers  and  many  centurions.  Thirty-two 
standards  were  lost,  and  some  hundreds  of  legionaries 
were  taken.  Labienus  begged  the  prisoners  of  Pom- 
pey. He  called  them  mockingly  old  comrades.  He 
asked  them  how  veterans  came  to  fly.  They  were 
led  into  the  midst  of  the  camp  and  were  all  killed. 

Caesar's  legions  had  believed  themselves  invincible. 
The  effect  of  this  misfortune  was  to  mortify  and  in- 
furiate them.     They  were  eager  to  fling  themseivea 


Retreat  of  Ccesar.  425 

again  upon  the  enemy  and  win  back  their  laurels; 
but  Caesar  saw  that  they  were  excited  and  unsteady, 
and  that  they  required  time  to  collect  themselves. 
He  spoke  to  them  with  his  usual  calm  cheerfulness. 
He  praised  their  courage.  He  reminded  them  of 
their  many  victories,  and  bade  them  not  be  oast  down 
at  a  misadventure  which  they  would  soon  repair ;  but 
he  foresaw  that  the  disaster  would  affect  the  temper 
of  Greece  and  make  his  commissariat  more  difficult 
than  it  was  already.  He  perceived  that  he  must 
adopt  some  new  plan  of  campaign,  and  with  instant 
decision  he  fell  back  upon  Apollonia. 

The  gleam  of  victory  was  the  cause  of  Pompey's 
ruin.  It  was  unlocked  for,  and  the  importance  of  it 
exaggerated.  Cassar  was  supposed  to  be  flying  with 
the  wreck  of  an  army  completely  disorganized  and 
disheartened.  So  sure  were  the  Pompeians  that  it 
could  never  rally  again  that  they  regarded  the  war  as 
over;  they  made  no  efforts  to  follow  up  a  success 
which,  if  improved,  might  have  been  really  decisive  ; 
and  they  gave  Caesar  the  one  thing  which  he  needed, 
time  to  recover  from  its  effects.  After  he  had  placed 
his  sick  and  wounded  in  security  at  Apollonia,  his 
first  object  was  to  rejoin  Calvinus,  who  had  been  sent 
to  watch  Scipio,  and  might  now  be  cut  off.  Fortune 
was  here  favorable.  Calvinus,  by  mere  accident, 
learnt  his  danger,  divined  where  Caesar  would  be,  and 
came  to  meet  him.  The  next  thing  was  to  see  what 
Pompey  would  do.  He  might  embark  for  Italy.  In 
this  case  Caesar  would  have  to  follow  him  hj  IWjno, 
and  the  head  of  the  Adriatic.  Cisalpine  Gaul  was 
true  to  him,  and  could  be  relied  on  to  refill  his  ranks. 
Or  Pompey  might  pursue  him  in  the  hope  to  make 
an  end  of   the  war  in  Greece,  and  an   opportunity 


426  Coesar, 

might  offer  itself  for  an  engagement  under  fairer 
terms.  On  the  whole  he  considered  the  second  alter- 
native the  more  likely  one,  and  with  this  expectation 
he  led  his  troops  into  the  rich  plains  of  Thessaly  for 
the  better  feeding  which  they  so  much  needed.  The 
news  of  his  defeat  preceded  him.  Gomphi,  an  im- 
portant Thessalian  town,  shut  its  gates  upon  him  ; 
j^iy^  and,  that   the   example  might   not   be  fol- 

^•c.48.  lowed,  Gomphi  was  instantly  stormed  and 
given  up  to  plunder.  One  such  lesson  was  enough. 
No  more  opposition  was  ventured  by  the  Greek  cities. 
Pompey  meanwhile  had  broken  up  from  Durazzo, 
and  after  being  joined  by  Scipio  was  following  lei- 
surely. There  were  not  wanting  persons  who  warned 
him  that  Caesar's  legions  njight  still  be  dangerous. 
Both  Cicero  and  Cato  had  advised  him  to  avoid  a 
battle,  to  allow  Caesar  to  wander  about  Greece  till 
his  supplies  failed  and  his  army  was  worn  out  by 
marches.  Pompey  himself  was  inclined  to  the  same 
opinion.  But  Pompey  was  no  longer  able  to  act  on 
his  own  judgment.  The  senators  who  were  with 
him  in  the  camp  considered  that  in  Greece,  as  in 
Rome,  they  were  the  supreme  rulers  of  the  Roman 
Empire.  All  along  they  had  held  their  sessions  and 
their  debates,  and  they  had  voted  resolutions  which 
they  expected  to  see  complied  with.  They  had  never 
liked  Pompey.  If  Cicero  was  right  in  supposing  that 
Pompey  meant  to  be  another  Sylla,  the  senators  had 
no  intention  of  allowing  it.  They  had  gradually 
wrested  his  authority  out  of  his  hands,  and  reduced 
him  to  the  condition  of  an  oflficer  of  a  Senatorial  Di- 
rectory. These  gentlemen,  more  especially  the  two 
late'  consuls,  Scipio  and  Lentulus,  were  persuaded 
that  a  single  blow  would  now  make  an  end  of  Caesar, 


The  Eve  of  Fharsalia,  427 

Hia  army  was  but  half  the  size  of  theirs,  without 
counting  the  Asiatic  auxiliaries.  The  men,  they 
were  persuaded,  were  dispirited  by  defeat  and  worn 
out.  So  sure  were  they  of  victory  that  they  were  im- 
patient of  every  day  which  delayed  their  return  to 
Italy.  They  accused  Pompey  of  protracting  the  war 
unnecessarily,  that  he  might  have  the  honor  of  com- 
manding such  distinguished  persons  as  themselves. 
They  had  arranged  everything  that  was  to  be  done. 
Caesar  and  his  band  of  cut-throats  were  in  imagina- 
tion already  dispatched.  They  had  butch-  August  9, 
ered  hitherto  every  one  of  them  who  had  ^•^•^^• 
fallen  into  their  hands,  and  the  same  fate  was  de- 
signed for  their  political  allies.  They  proposed  to 
establish  a  senatorial  court  after  their  return  to  Italy 
in  which  citizens  of  all  kinds  who  had  not  actually 
fought  on  the  Senate's  side  were  to  be  brought  up  for 
trial.  Those  who  should  be  proved  to  have  been 
active  for  Caesar  were  to  be  at  once  killed,  and  their 
estates  confiscated.  Neutrals  were  to  fare  almost  as 
badly.  Not  to  have  assisted  the  lawful  rulers  of  the 
State  was  scarcely  better  than  to  have  rebelled  against 
them.  They,  too,  were  liable  to  death  or  forfeiture, 
or  both.  A  third  class  of  offenders  was  composed  of 
those  who  had  been  within  Pompey's  lines,  but  had 
borne  no  part  in  the  fighting.  These  cold-hearted 
friends  were  to  be  tried  and  punished  according  to 
the  degree  of  their  criminality.  Cicero  was  the  per- 
son pointed  at  in  the  last  division.  Cicero's  clear 
judgment  had  shown  him  too  clearly  what  was  likely 
to  be  the  result  of  a  campaign  conducted  as  he  found 
it  on  his  arrival,  and  he  had  spoken  his  thoughts  with 
sarcastic  freedom.  The  noble  lords  came  next  to  a 
quarrel  among  themselves   as  to  how  the  spoils  of 


428  CcBsar, 

Caesar  were  to  be  divided.  Domitius  Ahenobarbus, 
Leutulus  Spinther,  and  Scipio  were  unable  to  deter- 
mine which  of  them  was  to  succeed  Caesar  as  Ponti- 
fex  Maximus,  and  which  was  to  have  his  palace  and 
gardens  in  Rome.  The  Roman  oligarchy  were  true 
to  their  character  to  the  eve  of  their  ruin.  It  was 
they,  with  their  idle  luxury,  their  hunger  for  lands 
and  office  and  preferment,  who  had  brought  all  this 
misery  upon  their  country  ;  and  standing,  as  it  were, 
at  the  very  bar  of  judgment,  with  the  sentence  of 
destruction  about  to  be  pronounced  upon  them, 
their  thoughts  were  still  bent  upon  how  to  secure  the 
largest  share  of  plunder  for  themselves. 

The  battle  of  Pharsalia  was  not  the  most  severe, 
still  less  was  it  the  last,  action  of  the  war.  But  it 
acquired  a  special  place  in  history,  because  it  was  .a 
battle  fought  by  the  Roman  aristocracy  in  their  own 
persons  in  defence  of  their  own  supremacy.  Senar 
tors  and  the  sons  of  senators ;  the  heirs  of  the  names 
and  fortunes  of  the  ancient  Roman  families;  the 
leaders  of  society  in  Roman  saloons,  and  the  chiefs  of 
the  political  party  of  the  Optimates  in  the  Curia  and 
Forum,  were  here  present  on  the  field;  representa- 
tives in  person  and  in  principle  of  the  traditions  ot 
Sylla,  brought  face  to  face  with  the  representative  of 
Marius.  Here  were  the  men  who  had  pursued  Cae- 
sar through  so  many  years  with  a  hate  so  inveter- 
ate. Here  were  the  haughty  Patrician  Guard,  who 
had  drawn  their  swords  on  him  in  the  Senate-house, 
young  lords  whose  theory  of  life  was  to  lounge 
through  it  in  patrician  insouciance.  The  other  great 
actions  were  fought  by  the  ignoble  multitude  whose 
deaths  were  of  less  significance.  The  plains  of  Phar- 
Balia  were  watered  by  the  precious  blood  of  the  elect 


Pharsalia,  429 

of  tHe  earth.  The  battle  there  marked  an  epoch  like 
no  other  in  the  history  of  the  world. 

For  some  days  the  two  armies  had  watched  each 
other's  movements.  Csesar,  to  give  his  men  confi- 
dence, had  again  offered  Pompey  an  opportunity  of 
fighting.  But  Pompey  had  kept  to  positions  where 
he  could  not  be  attacked.  To  draw  him  into  more 
open  ground,  Caesar  had  shifted  his  camp  continually. 
Pompey  had  followed  cautiously,  still  remaining  on 
his  guard.  His  political  iidvisers  were  impatient  of 
these  dilatory  movements.  They  taunted  him  with 
cowardice.  They  insisted  that  he  should  set  his  foot 
on  this  insignificant  adversary  promptly  and  at  once ; 
and  Pompey,  gathering  courage  from  their  confidence, 
and  trusting  to  his  splendid  cavalry,  agreed  at  last  to 
use  the  first  occasion  that  presented  itself. 

One  morning,  on  the  Enipeus,  near  Larissa,  the  9th 
of  August,  old  style,  or  towards  the  end  of  May  by 
real  time,  Caesar  had  broken  up  his  camp  and  was 
preparing  for  his  usual  leisurely  march,  when  he  per- 
ceived a  movement  in  Pompey's  lines  which  told  him 
that  the  movement  which  he  had  so  long  expected 
was  come.  Labienus,  the  evil  genius  of  the  Senate, 
who  had  tempted  them  into  the  war  by  telling  them 
that  his  comrades  were  as  disaffected  as  himself,  and 
had  fired  Csesar's  soldiers  into  intensified  fierceness 
by  his  barbarities  at  Durazzo,  had  spoken  the  decid- 
ing word :  "  Believe  not,"  Labienus  had  said,  "  that 
this  is  the  army  which  defeated  the  Gauls  and  the' 
Germans.  I  was  in  those  battles,  and  what  I  say  I 
know.  That  army  has  disappeared.  Part  fell  in  ac- 
tion ;  part  perished  of  fever  in  the  autumn  in  Italy. 
I^Iany  went  home.  Many  were  left  behind  unable  to 
wove.     The  men  you  see  before  you  are  levies  newly 


430  Ccesar. 

drawn  from  the  colonies  beyond  the  Po.  Of  the  vet- 
erans that  were  left  the  best  were  killed  at  Durazzo." 

A  council  of  war  had  been  hel^i  at  dawn.  There 
had  been  a  solemn  taking  of  oaths  again.  Labienus 
swore  that  he  would  not  return  to  the  camp  except  as 
a  conqueror  ;  so  swore  Pompey ;  so  swore  Lentulus, 
Scipio,  Domitius;  so  swore  all  the  rest.  They  had 
reason  for  their  high  spirits.  Pompey  had  forty- 
seven  thousand  Roman  infantry,  not  including  his 
allies,  and  seven  thousand  cavalry.  Caesar  had  but 
twenty-two  thousand,  and  of  horse  only  a  thousand. 
Pompey's  position  was  carefully  chosen.  His  right 
wing  was  covered  by  the  Enipeus,  the  opposite  bank 
of  which  was  steep  and  wooded.  His  left  spread  out 
into  the  open  plain  of  Pharsalia.  His  plan  of  battle 
was  to  send  forward  his  cavalry  outside  over  the  open 
ground,  with  clouds  of  archers  and  slingers,  to  scat- 
ter Csesar's  horse,  and  then  to  wheel  round  and  en- 
velop his  legions.  Thus  he  had  thought  they  would 
lose  heart  and  scatter  at  the  first  shock.  Csesar  had 
foreseen  what  Pompey  would  attempt  to  do.  His 
own  scanty  cavalry,  mostly  Gauls  and  Germans,  would, 
he"  well  knew,  be  unequal  to  thfe  weight  which  would 
be  thrown  on  them.  He  had  trained  an  equal  number 
of  picked  active  men  to  fight  in  their  ranks,  and  had 
thus  doubled  their  strength.  Fearing,  that  this  might 
be  not  enough,  he  had  taken  another  precaution.  The 
usual  Roman  formation  in  battle  was  in  triple  line. 
Caesar  had  formed  a  fourtb^line  of  cohorts  specially 
selected  to  engage  the  cavalry  ;  and  on  them,  he  said, 
in  giving  them  their  instructions,  the  result  of  the  ac- 
tion would  probably  depend. 

Pompey  commanded  on  his  own  left  with  the  two 
legions  which  he  had  taken  from  Caisar;  outside  him 


Pharsalia.  431 

on  the  plain  were  his  flying  companies  of  Greeks  and 
islanders,  with  the  cavalry  covering  them.  Caesar, 
with  his  favorite  10th,  was  opposite  Pompey.  His 
two  faithful  tribunes,  Mark  Antony  and  Cassius 
Longinus,  led  the  left  and  centre.  Servilia's  son, 
Marcus  Brutus,  was  in  Pompey's  army.  Caesar  had 
given  special  directions  that  Brutus,  if  recognized, 
should  not  be  injured.  Before  the  action  began  he 
spoke  a  few  general  words  to  such  of  his  troops  as 
could  hear  him.  They  all  knew,  he  said,  how  ear- 
nestly he  had  sought  for  peace,  how  careful  he  had  al- 
ways been  of  his  soldiers'  lives,  how  unwilling  to 
deprive  the  State  of  the  services  of  any  of  her  citi- 
zens, to  whichever  party  they  might  belong.  Crasti- 
nus,  a  centurion,  of  the  10th  legion,  already  known 
to  Csesar  for  his  gallantry,  called  out,  "  Follow  me, 
my  comrades,  and  strike,  and  strike  home,  for  your 
general.  This  one  battle  remains  to  be  fought,  and 
he  will  have  his  rights  and  we  our  liberty.  General," 
he  said,  looking  to  Csesar,  "  I  shall  earn  your  thanks 
this  day,  dead  or  alive." 

Pompey  had  ordered  his  first  line  to  stand  still  to 
receive  Caesar's  charge.^  They  would  thus  be  fresh, 
while  the  enemy  would  reach  them  exhausted  —  a 
mistake  on  Pompey's  part,  as  Caesar  thought ;  "  for  a 
fire  and  alacrity  (he  observes)  is  kindled  in  all  men 
when  they  meet  in  battle,  and  a  wise  general  should 
rather  encourage  than  repress  their  fervor." 

The  signal  was  given.  Caesar's  front  rank  advanced 
running.  Seeing  the  Pompeians  did  not  move,  they 
halted,  recovered  breath,  then  rushed  on,  flung  their 

1  I  follow  CsBsar's  own  account  of  the  action.  Appian  is  minutely  cir- 
eamstantial,  and  professes  to  describe  from  the  narratives  of  eye-witnesses. 
But  his  story  varies  so  far  from  Caesar's  as  to  be  irreconcilable  with  it,  and 
Cffisar's  own  authority  is  incomparably  the  best. 


482  Cmar, 

darts,  and  closed  sword  in  hand.  At  once.Pompey's 
horse  bore  down,  outflanking  Caesar's  right  wing,  with 
the  archers  behind  and  between  them  raining  show- 
ers of  arrows.  Caesar's  cavalry  gave  way  before  the 
shock,  and  the  outer  squadrons  came  wheeling  round 
to  the  rear,  expecting  that  there  would  be  no  one  to 
encounter  them.  The  fourth  line,  the  pick  and  flower 
of  the  legions,  rose  suddenly  in  their  way.  Surprised 
and  shaken  by  the  fierceness  of  the  attack  on  them, 
the  Pompeians  turned,  they  broke,  they  galloped 
wildly  off.  The  best  cavalry  in  those  Roman  battles 
were  never  a  match  for  infantry  when  in  close  forma- 
tion, and  Pompey's  brilliant  squadrons  were  carpet 
knights  from  the  saloon  and  the  circus.  They  never 
rallied,  or  tried  to  rally  ;  they  made  off  for  the  near- 
est hills.  The  archers  were  cut  to  pieces ;  and  the 
chosen  corps,  having  finished  so  easily  the  service  for 
which  they  had  been  told  off,  threw  themselves  on 
the  now  exposed  flank  of  Pompey's  left  wing.  It  was 
composed,  as  has  been  said,  of  the  legions  which  had 
once  been  Caesar's,  which  had  fought  under  him  at 
the  Vingeanne  and  at  Alesia.  They  ill  liked,  per- 
haps, the  change  of  masters,  and  were  in  no  humor  to 
stand  the  charge  of  their  old  comrades  coming  on 
with  the  familiar  rush  of  victory.  Caesar  ordered  up 
his  third  line,  which  had  not  yet  been  engaged ;  and 
at  once  on  all  sides  Pompey's  great  army  gave  way, 
and  fled.  Pompey  himself,  the  shadow  of  his  old 
name,  long  harassed  out  of  self-respect  by  his  senato- 
rial directors,  a  commander  only  in  appearance,  h,ad 
left  the  field  in  the  beginning  of  the  action.  He  had 
lost  heart  on  the  defeat  of  the  cavalry,  and  had  re- 
tired to  his  tent  to  wait  the  issue  of  the  day. 

The  stream  of  fugitives  pouring  in  told  him  too 


Fharsalia,  433 

surely  what  the  issue  had  been.  He  sprang  upon  his 
horse  and  rode  off  in  despair.  His  legions  were  rush- 
ing back  in  confusion.  C^sar,  swift  always  at  the 
right  moment,  gave  the  enemy  no  leisure  to  re-form, 
and  fell  at  once  upon  the  camp.  It  was  noon,  and 
the  morning  had  been  sultry ;  but  heat  and  weariness 
were  forgotten  in  the  enthusiasm  of  a  triumph  which 
all  then  believed  must  conclude  the  war.  A  few  com- 
panies of  Thracians,  who  had  been  left  on  guard, 
made  a  brief  resistance,  but  they  were  soon  borne 
down.  The  beaten  army,  which  a  few  hours  before 
were  sharing  in  imagination  the  lands  and  offices  of 
their  conquerors,  fled  out  through  the  opposite  gates, 
throwing  away  their  arms,  flinging  down  their  stand- 
ards, and  racing,  officers  and  men,  for  the  rocky  hills 
which  at  a  mile's  distance  promised  them  shelter. 

The  camp  itself  was  a  singular  picture.  Houses  of 
turf  had  been  built  for  the  luxurious  patricians,  with 
ivy  trained  over  the  entrances  to  shade  their  delicate 
faces  from  the  summer  sun  ;  couches  had  been  laid 
out  for  them  to  repose  on  after  their  expected  vic- 
tory; tables  were  spread  with  plate  and  wines,  and 
the  daintiest  preparations  of  Roman  cookery.  Caesar 
commented  on  the  scene  with  mournful  irony.  "  And 
these  men,"  he  said,  "  accused  my  patient,  suffering 
army,  which  had  not  even  common  necessaries,  of 
dissoluteness  and  profligacy  !  " 

Two  hundred  only  of  Caesar's  men  had  fallen. 
The  officers  had  suffered  most.  The  gallant  Crasti- 
nus,  who  had  nobly  fulfilled  his  promise,  had  been 
killed,  among  many  others,  in  opening  a  way  for  his 
comrades.  The  Pompeians,  after  the  first  shock,  had 
been  cut  down  unresisting.  Fifteen  thousand  of  them 
lay  scattered   dead  about  the  ground.     There  were 


434  Coemr, 

few  wounded  in  these  battles.  The  short  sword  of 
the  Komans  seldom  left  its  work  unjBnished. 

"  They  would  have  it  so,"  Cassar  is  reported  to  have 
said,  as  he  looked  sadly  over  the  littered  bodies  in  the 
familiar  patrician  dress..  "  After  all  that  I  had  done 
for  my  country,  I,  Caius  Caesar,  should  have  been  con- 
demned by  them  as  a  criminal  if  I  had  not  appealed 
to  my  army."^ 

But  Caesar  did  not  wait  to  indulge  in  reflections. 
His  object  was  to  stamp  the  fire  out  on  the  spot,  that 
it  might  never  kindle  again.  More  than  half  the 
Pompeians  had  reached  the  hills  and  were  making  for 
Larissa.  Leaving  part  of  his  legions  in  the  camp  to 
rest,  Caesar  took  the  freshest  the  same  evening,  and 
by  a  rapid  march  cut  off  their  line  of  retreat.  The 
hills  were  waterless,  the  weather  suffocating.  A  few 
of  the  guiltiest  of  the  Pompeian  leaders,  Labienus, 
Lentulus,  Afranius,  Petreius,  and  Metellus  Scipio 
(Cicero  and  Catohad  been  left  at  Durazzo),  contrived 
to  escape  in  the  night.  The  rest,  twenty-four  thou- 
sand of  them,  surrendered  at  daylight.  They  came 
down  praying  for  mercy  which  they  had  never  shown, 
sobbing  out  their  entreaties  on  their  knees  that  the 
measure  which  they  had  dealt  to  others  might  not  be 
meted  out  to  them.  Then  and  always  Caesar  hated 
unnecessary  cruelty,  and  never,  if  he  could  help  it,  al- 
lowed executions  in  cold  blood.  He  bade  them  rise, 
said  a  few  gentle  words  to  relieve  their  fears,  and  sent 
them  back  to  the  camp.  Domitius  Ahenobai'bus,  be- 
lieving that  for  him  at  least  there  could  be  no  forgive- 
ness, tried  to  escape,  and  was  killed.  The  rest  were 
pardoned. 

So  ended  the  battle  of  Pharsalia.     A  hundred  and 

^  Suetonius,  quoting  from  Asinius  PoUio,  who  was  present  at  the  battle. 


Cicero's  Refleetions.  435 

eighty  standards  were  taken  and  all  the  eagles  of 
Pompey's  legions.  In  Pompey's  own  tent 
was  found  his  secret  correspondence,  impli- 
cating persons,  perhaps,  whom  Caesar  had  never  sus- 
pected, revealing  the  mysteries  of  the  past  three  years. 
Curiosity  and  even  prudence  might  have  tempted  him 
to  look  into  it.  His  only  wish  was  that  the  past 
should  be  forgotten :  he  burnt  the  whole  mass  of  pa- 
pers unread. 

Would  the  war  now  end  ?  That  was  the  question. 
Caesar  thought  that  it  would  not  end  as  long  as  Pom- 
pey  was  at  large.  The  feelings  of  others  may  be 
gathered  out  of  abridgments  from  Cicero's  letters  :  — 

Cicero  to  Planeius?- 

"  Victory  on  one  side  meant  massacre,  on  the  other 
slavery.  It  consoles  me  to  remember  that  I  foresaw 
these  things,  and  as  much  feared  the  success  of  oui 
cause  as  the  defeat  of  it.  I  attached  myself  to  Pom- 
pey's party  more  in  hope  of  peace  than  from  desire  of 
war ;  but  I  saw,  if  we  had  the  better,  how  cruel  would 
be  the  triumph  of  an  exasperated,  avaricious,  and  in- 
solent set  of  men  ;  if  we  were  defeated,  how  many  of 
our  wealthiest  and  noblest  citizens  must  fall.  Yet 
when  I  argued  thus  and  offered  my  advice  I  was 
taunted  for  being  a  coward.  " 

Cicero  to  Caius  Cassius? 

"  We  were  both  opposed  to  a  continuance  of  the 
war  [after  Pharsalia].  I,  perhaps,  more  than  you; 
but  we  agreed  that  one  battle  should  be  accepted  as 
decisive,  if  not  of  the  whole  cause,  yet  of  our  own 
judgment  upon  it.     Nor  were  there  any  who  differed 

1  Ad  Familiaree,  W.  14.  ^  jb,  xv.  15. 


436  Ccesar. 

from  us  save  those  who  thought  it  better  that  the 
constitution  should  be  destroyed  altogether  than  be 
preserved  with  diminished  prerogatives.  For  myself 
I  could  hope  nothing  from  the  overthrow  of  it,  and 

much  if   a  remnant  could   be  saved And  I 

thought  it  likely  that  after  that  decisive  battle  the 
victors  would  consider  the  welfare  of  the  public,  ind 
that  the  vanquished  would  consider  their  own." 

To  Varro?- 

"  You  were  absent  [at  the  critical  moment].  I  for 
myself  perceived  that  our  friends  wanted  war,  and 
that  Caesar  did  not  want  it,  but  was  not  afraid  of  it. 
Thus  much  of  human  purpose  was  in  the  matter. 
The  rest  came  necessarily ;  for  one  side  or  the  other 
would,  of  course,  conquer.  You  and  I  both  grieved 
to  see  how  the  State  would  suffer  from  the  loss  of 
either  army  and  its  generals ;  we  knew  that  victory 
in  a  civil  war  was  itself  a  most  miserable  disaster.  I 
dreaded  the  success  of  those  to  whom  I  had  attached 
myself.  They  threatened  most  cruelly  those  who 
had  stayed  quietly  at  home.  Your  sentiments  and 
my  speeches  were  alike  hateful  to  them.  If  our  side 
had  won,  they  would  have  shown  no  forbearance." 

To  Marcus  Marius.^ 

"  "When  you  met  me  on  the  13th  of  May  (49),  you 
were  anxious  about  the  part  which  I  was  to  take. 
If  I  stayed  in  Italy,  you  feared  that  I  should  be 
wanting  in  duty.  To  go  to  the  war  you  thought 
dangerous  for  me.  I  was  myself  so  disturbed  that  I 
could  not  tell  what  it  was  best  for  me  to  do.  I  con- 
sulted my  reputation,  however,  more  than  my  safety ; 

i  Ad  Fam.  ix.  6.  2  /6.  yH,  3. 


Cicero's  Mejlections.  437 

and  if  I  afterwards  repented  of  my  decision  it  was 
not  for  the  peril  to  myself,  but  on  account  of  the 
state  of  tilings  which  I  found  on  my  arrival  at  Pom- 
pey's  camp.  His  forces  were  not  very  considerable 
nor  good  of  their  kind.  For  the  chiefs,  if  I  except 
the  general  and  a  few  others,  they  were  rapacious  in 
their  conduct  of  the  war,  and  so  savage  in  their  lan- 
guage that  I  dreaded  to  see  them  victorious.  The 
most  considerable  among  them  were  overwhelmed 
with  debt.  There  was  nothing  good  about  them  but 
their  cause.  I  despaired  of  success  and  recommended 
peace.  When  Pompey  would  not  hear  of  it,  I  ad- 
vised him  to  protract  the  war.  This  for  the  time  he 
approved,  and  he  might  have  continued  firm  but  for 
the  confidence  which  he  gathered  from  the  battle  at 
Durazzo.  From  that  day  the  great  man  ceased  to  be 
a  general.  With  a  raw  and  inexperienced  army  he 
engaged  legions  in  perfect  discipline.  On  the  defeat 
he  basely  deserted  his  camp  and  fled  by  himself.  For 
me  this  was  the  end  :  I  retired  from  a  war  in  which 
the  only  alternatives  before  me  were  either  to  be 
killed  in  action  or  be  taken  prisoner,  or  fly  to  Juba  in 
Africa,  or  hide  in  exile,  or  destroy  myself." 

To  Ccecina?- 

"  I  would  tell  you  my  prophecies  but  that  you 
would  think  I  had  made  them  after  the  event.  But 
many  persons  can  bare  me  witness  that  I  first  warned 
Pompey  against  attaching  himself  to  Caesar,  and 
then  against  quarrelling  with  him.  Their  union 
(I  said)  had  broken  the  power  of  the  Senate ;  their 
discord  would  cause  a  civil  war.  I  was  intimate  with 
Caesar ;  I  was  most  attached  to  Pompey  ;  but  my  ad- 

1  Ad  Fam.  vi.  6. 


438  Ccesar. 

vice  was  for  the  good  of  them  both 1  thought 

that  Pompey  ought  to  go  to  Spain.  Had  he  done  so, 
the  war  would  not  have  been.  I  did  not  so  much  in- 
sist that  Csesar  could  legally  stand  for  the  consulship 
as  that  his  name  should  be  accepted,  because  the  peo- 
ple had  so  ordered  at  Pompey's  own  instance.  I  ad- 
vised, I  entreated.  I  preferred  the  most  unfair  peace 
to  the  most  righteous  war.  I  was  overborne,  not  so 
much  by  Pompey  (for  on  him  I  produced  an  effect) 
as  by  men  who  relied  on  Pompey's  leadership  to  win 
them  a  victory,  which  would  be  convenient  for  their 
personal  interests  and  private  ambitions.  No  mis- 
fortune has  happened  in  the  war  which  I  did  not  pre- 
dict." 


CHAPTER  XXIII. 

The  strength  of  the  senatorial  party  lay  in  Pom* 
pey's  popularity  in  the  East.  A  halo  was 
Btill  supposed  to  hang  about  him  as  the  cre- 
ator of  the  Eastern  Empire,  and  so  long  as  he  was 
alive  and  at  liberty  there  was  always  a  possibility 
that  he  might  collect  a  new  army.  To  overtake  him, 
to  reason  with  him,  and,  if  reason  failed,  to  prevent 
him  by  force  from  involving  himself  and  the  State  in 
fresh  difficulties,  was  Caesar's  first  object.  Pompey, 
it  was  found,  had  ridden  from  the  battlefield  direct 
to  the  sea,  attended  by  a  handful  of  horse.  He  had 
gone  on  board  a  grain  vessel  which  carried  him  to 
Amphipolis.  At  Amphipolis  he  had  stayed  but  a 
single  night,  and  had  sailed  for  Mitylene,  where  he 
had  left  his  wife  and  his  sons.  The  last  accounts 
which  the  poor  lady  had  heard  of  him  had  been  such 
as  reached  Lesbos  after  the  affair  at  Durazzo.  Young 
patricians  had  brought  her  word  that  her  husband 
had  gained  a  glorious  victory,  that  he  had  joined  her 
father,  Metellus  Scipio,  and  that  together  they  were 
pursuing  Caesar  with  the  certainty  of  overwhelming 
him.     Rumor,  cruel  as  usual  — 

Had  brought  smooth  comforts  false,  worse  than  true  wrongs. 

Rumor  had  told  Cornelia  that  Caesar  had  "  stooped 
his  head  "  before  Pompey's  "  rage."  Pompey  came 
in  person  to  inform  her  of  the  miserable  reality.  At 
Mitylene  Pompey's  family  were  no  longer  welcome 
guests.     They  joined  him  on  board  his  ship  to  share 


440  Cce^ar. 

his  fortunes,  but  what  those  fortunes  were  to  be  was 
all  uncertain.  Asia  had  seemed  devoted  to  him.  To 
what  part  of  it  should  he  go  ?  To  Cilicia  ?  to  Syria  ? 
to  Armenia  ?  To  Parthia  ?  For  even  Parthia  was 
thought  of.  Unhappily  the  report  of  Pharsalia  had 
flown  before  him,  and  the  vane  of  sentiment  had  every- 
where veered  round.  The  JEgean  islands  begged 
him  politely  not  to  compromise  them  by  his  pres- 
ence. He  touched  at  Rhodes.  Lentulus,  flying  from 
the  battlefield,  had  tried  Rhodes  before  him,  and  had 
been  requested  to  pass  on  upon  his  way.  Lentulus 
was  said  to  be  gone  to  Egypt.  Polite  to  Pompey  the 
Rhodians  were,  but  perhaps  he  was  generously  un- 
willing to  involve  them  in  trouble  in  his  behalf.  He 
went  on  to  Cilicia,  the  scene  of  his  old  glory  in  the 
pirate  wars.  There  he  had  meant  to  land  and  take 
refuge  either  with  the  Parthians  or  with  one  of  the 
allied  princes.  But  in  Cilicia  he  heard  that  Antioch' 
bad  declared  for  Csesar.  Allies  and  subjects,  as  far 
as  he  could  learn,  were  all  for  Caesar.  Egypt,  whither 
Lentulus  had  gone,  appeared  the  only  place  where  he 
could  surely  calculate  on  being  welcome.  Ptolemy 
the  Piper,  the  occasion  of  so  much  scandal,  was  no 
longer  living,  but  he  owed  the  recovery  of  his  throne 
to  Pompey.  Gabinius  had  left  a  few  thousand  of 
Pompey's  old  soldiers  at  Alexandria  to  protect  him 
against  his  subjects.  These  men  had  married  Egyp- 
tian wives  and  had  adopted  Egyptian  habits,  but  they 
could  not  have  forgotten  their  old  general.  They 
were  acting  as  guards  at  present  to  Ptolemy's  four 
children,  two  girls,  Cleopatra  and  Arsinoe,  and  two 
boys,  each  called  Ptolemy.  The  father  hal  be- 
queathed the  crown  to  the  two  elder  ones,  Cleopatra, 
who  was  turned   sixteen,  and  a  brother   two   years 


Fomyey  flies  to  Egypt,  441 

younger.  Here  at  least,  among  these  young  princes 
and  their  guardians,  who  had  been  their  father's 
friends,  their  father's  greatest  benefactor  might  count 
with  confidence  on  finding  hospitality. 

For  Egypt,  therefore,  Pompey  sailed,  taking  his 
family  along  with  him.  He  had  collected  a  few  ships 
and  2,000  miscellaneous  followers,  and  with  them  he 
arrived  off  Pelusium,  the  modern  Damietta.  His  for- 
lorn condition  was  a  punishment  sufficiently  terrible 
for  the  vanity  which  had  flung  his  country  into  war. 
But  that  it  had  been  his  own  doing  the  letters  of 
Cicero  prove  with  painful  clearness ;  and  though  he 
had  partially  seen  his  error  at  Capua,  and  would  then 
have  possibly  drawn  back,  the  passions  and  hopes 
which  he  had  excited  had  become  too  strong  for  him 
to  contend  against.  From  the  day  of  his  flight  from 
Italy  he  had  been  as  a  leaf  whirled  upon  a  winter  tor- 
rent. Plain  enough  it  had  long  been  to  him  that  he 
would  not  be  able  to  govern  the  wild  forces  of  a  re- 
action which,  if  it  had  prevailed,  would  have  brought 
back  a  more  cruel  tyranny  than  Sylla's.  He  was  now 
flung  as  a  waif  on  the  shore  of  a  foreign  land  ;  and  if 
Providence  on  each  occasion  proportioned  the  penal- 
ties of  misdoing  to  the  magnitude  of  the  fault,  it  might 
have  been  considered  that  adequate  retribution  had 
been  inflicted  on  him.  But  the  consequences  of  the 
actions  of  men  live  when  the  actions  are  themselves 
forgotten,  and  come  to  light  without  regard  to  the  fit- 
ness of  the  moment.  The  Senators  of  Rome  were 
responsible  for  the  exactions  which  Ptolemy  Auletes 
had  been  compelled  to  wring  out  of  his  subjects. 
Pompey  himself  had  entertained  and  supported  him 
.n  Rome  when  he  was  driven  from  his  throne,  and 
had  connived  at  the  murder  of  the  Alexandrians  who 


442  Ccesar. 

had  been  sent  to  remonstrate  against  his  restoration. 
It  was  by  Pompey  that  he  had  been  forced  again  upon 
his  miserable  subjects,  and  had  been  compelled  to 
grind  them  with  fresh  extortions.  It  was  not  un- 
natural under  these  circumstances  that  the  Egyptians 
were  eager  to  free  themselves  from  a  subjection  which 
bore  more  heavily  on  them  than  annexation  to  the 
Empire.  A  national  party  had  been  formed  on 
Ptolemy's  death  to  take  advantage  of  the  minority 
of  his  children.  Cleopatra  had  been  expelled.  The 
Alexandrian  citizens  kept  her  brother  in  their  hands, 
and  were  now  ruling  in  his  name ;  the  demoralized 
Roman  garrison  had  been  seduced  into  supporting 
them,  and  they  had  an  army  lying  at  the  time  at  Pe- 
lusium,  to  guard  against  Cleopatra  and  her  friends. 

Of  all  this  Pompey  knew  nothing.  When  he  ar- 
rived off  the  port  he  learnt  that  the  young  king  with 
a  body  of  troops  was  in  the  neighborhood,  and  he 
sent  on  shore  to  ask  permission  to  land.  The  Egyp- 
tians had  already  heard  of  Pharsalia.  Civil  war  among 
the  Romans  was  an  opportunity  for  them  to  assert 
their  independence,  or  to  secure  their  liberties  by 
taking  the  side  which  seemed  most  likely  to  be  suc- 
cessful. Lentulus  had  already  arrived,  and  had  been 
imprisoned  —  a  not  unnatural  return  for  the  murder 
of  Dion  and  his  fellow-citizens.  Pompey,  whose 
name  more  than  that  of  any  other  Roman  was  iden- 
tified with  their  sufferings,  was  now  placing  himself 
spontaneously  in  their  hands.  Why,  by  sparing  him, 
should  they  neglect  the  opportunity  of  avenging  their 
own  wrongs,  and  of  earning,  as  they  might  suppose 
that  they  would,  the  lasting  gratitude  of  Caesar? 
The  Roman  garrison  had  no  feeling  for  their  once 
glorious  commander.    "  In  calamity,"  Csesar  observes. 


Beath  of  Pompey,  443 

"friends  easily  become  foes."  The  guardians  of  the 
young  king  sent  a  smooth  answer,  bidding  Pompey 
welcome.  The  water  being  shallow,  they  disspatched 
Achillas,  a  prefect  in  the  king's  army,  and  Septimius, 
a  Roman  officer,  whom  Pompey  personally  knew,  with 
a  boat  to  conduct  him  on  shore.  His  wife  and  friends 
distrusted  the  tone  of  the  reception,  and  begged  him 
to  wait  till  he  could  land  with  his  own  guard.  The 
presence  of  Septimius  gave  Pompey  confidence.  Weak 
men,  when  in  difficulties,  fall  into  a  kind  of  despairing 
fatalism,  as  if  tired  of  contending  longer  with  adverse 
fortune.  Pompey  stepped  into  the  boat,  and  when 
out  of  arrow-shot  from  the  sliip  was  murdered  under 
his  wife's  eyes.  His  head  was  cut  off  and  carried 
away.  His  body  was  left  lying  on  the  sands.  A 
man  who  had  been  once  his  slave,  and  had  been  set 
free  by  him,  gathered  a  few  sticks  and  burnt  it  there; 
and  thus  the  last  rites  were  bestowed  upon  one  whom, 
a  few  months  before,  Csesar  himself  would  have  been 
content  to  acknowledge  as  his  superior. 

So  ended  Pompey  the  Great.  History  has  dealt 
tenderly  with  him  on  account  of  his  misfortunes,  and 
has  not  refused  him  deserved  admiration  for  qualities 
^s  rare  in  his  age  as  they  were  truly  excellent.  His 
capacities  as  a  soldier  were  not  extraordinary.  He 
had  risen  to  distinction  by  his  honesty.  The  pirates 
who  had  swept  the  Mediterranean  had  bought  their 
impunity  by  a  tribute  paid  to  senators  and  governors. 
They  were  suppressed  instantly  when  a  commander 
was  sent  against  them  whom  they  were  unable  to 
bribe.  The  conquest  of  Asia  was  no  less  easy  to  a 
man  who  could  resist  temptations  to  enrich  himself. 
The  worst  enemy  of  Pompey  never  charged  him  with 
3orruption  or  rapacity.     So  far  as  he  was  himself 


444  Ccesar. 

concerned,  the  restoration  of  Ptolemy  was  gratuitous, 
for  he  received  nothing  for  it.  His  private  fortune 
when  he  had  the  world  at  his  feet  was  never  more 
than  moderate  ;  nor  as  a  politician  did  his  faults  ex- 
tend beyond  weakness  and  incompetence.  Unfortu- 
nately he  had  acquired  a  position  by  his  negative  vir- 
tues which  was  above  his  natural  level,  and  misled 
him  into  overrating  his  capabilities.  So  long  as  he 
stood  by  Caesar  he  had  maintained  his  honor  and 
his  authority.  He  allowed  men  more  cunning  than 
himself  to  play  upon  his  vanity,  and  Pompey  fell  — 
fell  amidst  the  ruins  of  a  constitution  which  had  been 
undermined  by  the  villainies  of  its  representatives. 
His  end  was  piteous,  but  scarcely  tragic,  for  the  cause 
to  which  he  was  sacrificed  was  too  slightly  removed 
from  being  ignominious.  He  was  no  Phcebus  Apollo 
sinking  into  the  ocean,  surrounded  with  glory.  He 
was  not  even  a  brilliant  meteor.  He  was  a  weak, 
good  man,  whom  accident  had  thrust  into  a  place  to 
which  he  was  unequal ;  and  ignorant  of  himself,  and 
unwilling  to  part  with  his  imaginary  greatness,  he 
was  flung  down  with  careless  cruelty  by  the  forces 
which  were  dividing  the  world.  His  friend  Lentu- 
lus  shared  his  fate,  and  was  killed  a  few  days  later, 
while  Pompey's  ashes  were  still  smoking.  Two  of 
Bibulus's  sons,  who  had  accompanied  him,  were  mur- 
dered as  well. 

Cassar  meanwhile  had  followed  along  Pompey's 
track,  hoping  to  overtake  him.  In  Cilicia  he  heard 
where  he  was  gone;  and  learning  something  more 
\»ccurately  there  of  the  state  of  Egypt,  he  took  two 
legions  with  him,  one  of  which  had  attended  him  from 
Pharsalia,  and  another  which  he  had  sent  for  from 
Achaia.     With  these  he  sailed  for  Alexandria.     To 


Revolt  in  Alexandria.  445 

gether,  so  much  had  they  been  thinned  by  hard  serv- 
ice, these  legions  mustered  between  them  little  over 
8,000  men.  The  force  was  small,  but  Caesar  con- 
sidered that,  after  Pharsalia,  there  could  be  no  dan- 
ger for  him  anywhere  in  the  Mediterranean.  He 
landed  without  opposition,  and  was  presented  on  his 
arrival,  as  a  supposed  welcome  offering,  with  the 
head  of  his  rival.  Politically  it  would  have  been 
better  far  for  him  to  have  returned  to  Rome  with 
Pompey  as  a  friend.  Nor,  if  it  had  been  certain  that 
Pompey  would  have  refused  to  be  reconciled,  were 
services  such  as  this  a  road  to  Caesar's  favor.  The 
Alexandrians  speedily  found  that  they  were  not  to 
be  rewarded  with  the  desired  independence.  The 
consular  fasces,  the  emblem  of  the  hated  Roman  au- 
thority, were  carried  openly  before  Caesar  when  he 
appeared  in  the  streets ;  and  it  was  not  long  before 
mobs  began  to  assemble  with  cries  that  Egypt  was 
a  free  country,  and  that  the  people  would  not  allow 
their  king  to  be  insulted.  Evidently  there  was  busi- 
ness to  be  done  in  Egypt  before  Csesar  could  leave 
it.  Delay  was  specially  inconvenient.  A  prolonged 
absence  from  Italy  would  allow  faction  time  to  rally 
again.  But  Csesar  did  not  look  on  himself  as  the 
leader  of  a  party,  but  as  the  guardian  of  Roman  in- 
terests, and  it  was  not  his  habit  to  leave  any  neces- 
sary work  uncompleted.  The  Etesian  winds,  too,  had 
set  in,  which  made  it  difficult  for  his  heavy  vessels 
to  work  out  of  the  harbor.  Seeing  that  troubles 
might  rise,  he  sent  a  message  to  Mithridates  of  Per- 
gamus,^   to   bring   him   reinforcements   from    Syria, 

1  Supposed  to  have  beea  a  natural  son  of  Mithridates  the  Great.  The 
reason  for  the  special  confidence  which  Caesar  placed  in  him  does  not  ap- 
pear. The  danger  at  Alexandria,  perhaps,  did  not  appear  at  the  moment 
particularlj'-  serious. 


446  Ocesar, 

"while  he  himself  at  once  took  the  goyernment  of 
Egypt  into  his  hands.  He  forbade  the  Alexandrians 
to  set  aside  Ptolemy's  will,  and  insisted  that  the 
sovereignty  must  be  vested  jointly  in  Cleopatra  and 
her  brother  as  their  father  had  ordered.^  The  cries 
of  discontent  grew  bolder.  Alexandria  was  a  large, 
populous  city,  the  common  receptacle  of  vagabonds 
from  all  parts  of  the  Mediterranean.  Pirates,  thieves, 
political  exiles,  and  outlaws  had  taken  refuge  there, 
and  had  been  received  into  the  king's  service.  With 
the  addition  of  the  dissolute  legionaries  left  by  Ga- 
binius,  they  made  up  20,000  as  dangerous  ruffians  as 

1  Roman  scandal  discovered  afterwards  that  Caesar  had  been  fascinated 
by  the  charms  of  Cleopatra,  and  allowed  his  politics  to  be  influenced  by  a 
love  aifair.  Roman  fashionable  society  hated  Cassar,  and  any  carrion  was 
welcome  to  them  which  would  taint  his  reputation.  Cleopatra  herself 
favored  the  story,  and  afterwards  produced  a  child,  whom  she  named 
Caesarion.  Oppius,  Caesar's  most  intimate  friend,  proved  that  the  child 
could  not  have  been  his  —  of  course,  therefore,  that  the  intrigue  was  a 
fable;  and  the  boy  was  afterwards  put  to  death  by  Augustus  as  an  impostor. 
No  one  claims  immaculate  virtue  for  Cassar.  An  amour  with  Cleopatra 
may  have  been  an  accident  of  his  presence  in  Alexandria.  But  to  suppose 
that  such  a  person  as  Caesar,  with  the  concerns  of  the  world  upon  his 
hands,  would  have  allowed  his  public  action  to  be  governed  by  a  connec- 
tion with  a  loose  girl  of  sixteen  is  to  make  too  large  a  demand  upon  human 
credulity;  nor  is  it  likely  that,  in  a  situation  of  so  much  danger  and  dif- 
ficulty as  that  in  which  he  found  himself,  he  would  have  added  to  his' 
embarrassments  by  indulging  in  an  intrigue.  The  report  proves  nothing, 
for  whether  true  or  false  it  was  alike  certain  to  arise.  The  salons  of  Rome, 
like  the  salons  of  London  and  Paris,  took  their  revenge  on  greatness  hy 
soiling  it  with  filth  ;  and  happily  Suetonius,  the  chief  authority  for  the 
scandal,  couples  it  with  a  story  which  is  demonstrably  false.  He  says 
that  Caesar  made  a  long  expedition  with  Cleopatra  in  a  barge  upon  the 
Nile,  that  he  was  so  fascuiated  with  her  that  he  wished  to  extend  his 
voyage  to  Ethiopia,  and  was  prevented  only  by  the  refusal  of  his  army 
to  follow  him.  The  details  of  Caesar's  stay  at  Alexandria,  so  minutely 
given  by  Hirtius,  show  that  there  was  not  a  moment  when  such  an  ex- 
oedition  could  have  been  contemplated.  During  the  greater  part  of  the 
lime  he  was  blockaded  in  the  palace.  Immediately  after  the  insurrection 
was  put  down,  he  was  obliged  to  hurry  off  on  matters  of  instant  and  urgent 
moment.  Of  the  story  of  Cleopatra's  presence  in  Rome  at  the  time  of  hi« 
mnrder,  more  will  be  said  hereafter. 


Revolt  in  Alexandria.  447 

had  ever  been  gathered  into  a  single  city.  The  more 
respectable  citizens  had  no  reason  to  love  the  Ro- 
mans. The  fate  of  Cyprus  seemed  a  foreshadowing 
of  their  own.  They  too,  unless  they  looked  to  them- 
selves, would  be  absorbed  in  the  devouring  Empire. 
They  had  made  an  end  of  Pompey,  and  Caesar  had 
shown  no  gratitude.  Caesar  himself  was  now  in  their 
hands.  Till  the  wind  changed  they  thought  that  he 
could  not  escape,  and  they  were  tempted,  naturally 
enough,  to  use  the  chance  which  fate  had  given 
them. 

Pothinus,  a  palace  eunuch  and  one  of  young  Ptol- 
emy's guardians,  sent  secretly  for  the  troops  at  Pe- 
lusium,  and  gave  the  command  of  them  to  Achillas, 
the  officer  who  had  murdered  Pompey.  The  city 
rose  when  they  came  in,  and  Caesar  found  himself 
blockaded  in  the  palace  and  the  part  of  the  city  which 
joined  the  outer  harbor.  The  situation  was  irritating 
from  its  absurdity,  but  more  or  less  it  was  really 
dangerous.  The  Egyptian  fleet  which  had  been  sent 
to  Greece  in  aid  of  Pompey  had  come  back,  and  was 
in  the  inner  basin.  It  outnumbered  Caesar's,  and 
the  Alexandrians  were  the  best  seamen  in  the  Med- 
iterranean. If  they  came  out,  they  might  cut  his 
communications.  Without  hesitation  he  set  lire  to 
the  docks  ;  burnt  or  disabled  the  greater  part  of  the 
bhips ;  seized  the  Pharos  and  the  mole  which  con-, 
nected  it  with  the  town  ;  fortified  the  palace  and  the 
line  of  houses  occupied  by  his  troops ;  and  in  this 
position  he  remained  for  several  weeks,  defending 
himself  against  the  whole  power  of  Egypt.  Of  the 
lime  in  which  legend  describes  him  as  abandoned  to 
his  love  for  Cleopatra,  there  was  hardly  an  hour  of 
either  day  or  night  in  which  he  was  not  fighting  for 


448  C(2%ar, 

his  very  life.  The  Alexandrians  were  ingenious  and 
indefatigable.  They  pumped  the  sea  into  the  con- 
duits which  supplied  his  quarters  with  water,  for  a 
moment  it  seemed  with  fatal  effect.  Fresh  water 
was  happily  found  by  sinking  wells.  They  made  a 
new  fleet ;  old  vessels  on  the  stocks  were  launched, 
others  were  brought  down  from  the  canals  on  the 
river.  They  made  oars  and  spars  out  of  the  benches 
and  tables  of  the  professors'  lecture  rooms.  With 
these  they  made  desperate  attempts  to  retake  the 
mole.  Once  with  a  sudden  rush  they  carried  a  sliip, 
in  which  Caesar  was  present  in  person,  and  he  was 
obliged  to  swim  for  his  life.^  Still  he  held  on,  keep- 
ing up  his  men's  spirits,  and  knowing  that  relief  must 
arrive  in  time.  He  was  never  greater  than  in  un- 
looked-for difficulties.  He  never  rested.  He  was  al- 
ways inventing  some  new  contrivance.  He  could 
have  retired  from  the  place  with  no  serious  loss.  He 
could  have  taken  to  his  ships  and  forced  his  way  to 
sea  in  spite  of  the  winds  and  the  Alexandrians.  But 
he  felt  that  to  fly  from  such  an  enemy  would  dis- 
honor the  Roman  name,  and  he  would  not  entertain 
the  thought  of  it. 

The  Egyptians  made  desperate  efforts  to  close  the 
harbor.  Finding  that  they  could  neither  capture  the 
Pharos  nor  make  an  impression  on  Caesar's  lines,  they 
affected  to  desire  peace.  Cifisar  had  kept  young 
Ptolemy  with  him  as  a  security.  They  petitioned 
that  he  should  be  given  up  to  them,  promising  on 
compliance  to  discontinue  their  assaults.  Caesar  did 
not  believe   them.     But  tlie  boy  was  of   no  use  to 

-  Legend  is  more  absurd  than  usual  over  this  incident.  It  pretends 
that  he  swam  with  one  hand,  and  carried  his  Commentaries,  holding 
them  above  water,  with  tJie  other.  As  if  a  general  would  take  his  MSS. 
with  him  into  a  hot  actiou  1 


Arrival  of  Mithridates.  449 

ilm,  the  army  wished  him  gone,  for  they  thought 
him  treacherous,  and  his  presence  would 
not  strengthen  the  enemy.  Caesar,  says 
Hirtius,  considered  that  it  would  be  more  respecta- 
ble to  be  fighting  with  a  king  than  with  a  gang  of 
ruifiiins.  Young  Ptolemy  was  released,  and  joined 
his  countrymen,  and  the  war  went  on  more  fiercely 
than  before.  Pompey's  murderers  were  brought  to 
justice  in  the  course  of  it.  Pothinus  fell  into  Cae- 
sar's hands,  and  was  executed.  Ganymede,  another 
eunuch,  assassinated  Achillas,  and  took  his  place  as 
commander-in-chief.  Reinforcements  began  to  come 
in.  Mithridates  had  not  yet  been  heard  of ;  but 
Domitius  Calvinus,  who  had  been  left  in  charge  of 
Asia  Minor,  and  to  whom  Caesar  had  also  sent,  had 
dispatched  two  legions  to  him.  One  arrived  by  sea 
at  Alexandria,  and  was  brought  in  with  some  diffi- 
culty. The  other  was  sent  by  land,  and  did  not 
arrive  in  time  to  be  of  service.  There  was  a  singular 
irony  in  Caesar  being  left  to  struggle  for  months  with 
a  set  of  miscreants,  but  the  trial  came  to  an  end  at 
last.  Mithridates,  skilful,  active,  and  faithful,  had 
raised  a  force  with  extraordinary  rapidity  in  Cilicia 
and  on  the  Euphrates.  He  had  marched  swiftly 
through  Syria ;  and  in  the  beginning  of  the  new  year 
Caesar  heard  the  welcome  news  that  he  had  reached 
Pelusium,  and  had  taken  it  by  storm.  Not  delaying 
for  a  day,  Mithridates  had  gone  up  the  bank  of  the 
Nile  to  Cairo.  A  division  of  the  Egyptian  army  lay 
opposite  to  him,  in  the  face  of  whom  he  did  not  think 
it  prudent  to  attempt  to  cross,  and  from  thence  he 
sent  word  oi  his  position  to  Caesar.  The  news  reached 
CiEsar  and  the  Alexandrians  at  the  same  moment. 
The  Alexandrians  luid  the  easiest  access  to  the  scene. 

2!) 


450  Cce8ar. 

They  had  merely  to  ascend  the  river  in  their  boats. 
Caesar  was  obliged  to  go  round  by  sea  to  Pelusium, 
and  to  follow  the  course  which  Mithridates  had  taken 
himself.  Rapidity  of  movement  made  up  the  dif- 
ference. Taking  with  him  such  cohorts  as  could  be 
spared  from  his  lines,  Caesar  had  joined  Mithridates 
before  the  Alexandrians  had  arrived.  Together  they 
forced  the  passage ;  and  Ptolemy  came  only  for  his 
camp  to  be  stormed,  his  army  to  be  cut  to  pieces,  and 
himself  to  be  drowned  in  the  Nile,  and  so  end  his 
brief  and  miserable  life. 

Alexandria  immediately  capitulated.  Arsinoe,  the 
youngest  sister,  was  sent  to  Rome.  Cleopatra  and 
her  surviving  brother  were  made  joint  sovereigns,  and 
Roman  rumor,  glad  to  represent  Caesar's  actions  in 
monstrous  characters,  insisted  in  after  years  that  they 
were  married.  The  absence  of  contemporary  author- 
ity for  the  story  precludes  also  the  possibility  of  de- 
nying it.  Two  legions  were  left  in  Egypt  to  protect 
them  if  they  were  faithful,  or  to  coerce  them  if  they 
misconducted  themselves.  The  Alexandrian  episode 
was  over,  and  Caesar  sailed  for  Syria.  His  long  de- 
tention over  a  complication  so  insignificant  had  been 
unfortunate  in  many  ways.  Scipio  and  Cato,  with 
the  other  fugitives  from  Pharsalia,  had  rallied  in 
Africa,  under  the  protection  of  Juba.  Italy  was  in 
confusion.  The  popular  party,  now  absolutely  in  the 
ascendant,  were  disposed  to  treat  the  aristocracy  as 
the  aristocracy  would  have  treated  them  had  they 
been  victorious.  The  controlling  hand  was  absent ; 
tht  rich,  long  hated  and  envied,  were  in  the  power  of 
the  multitude,  and  wild  measures  were  advocated, 
communistic,  socialistic,  such  as  are  always  heard  of 
in  revolutions,  meaning  in  one  form  or  another  the 


Fresh  Disorders,  451 

equalization  of  wealth,  the  division  of  property,  the 
poor  taking  their  turn  on  the  upper  crest  of  fortune 
and  the  rich  at  the  bottom.  The  tribunes  were  out- 
bidding one  another  in  extravagant  proposals,  while 
Caesar's  legions,  sent  home  from  Greece,  to  rest  after 
their  long , service,  were  enjoying  their  victory  in  the 
license  which  is  miscalled  liberty.  They  demanded 
the  lands,  or  rewards  in  money,  which  had  been 
promised  them  at  the  end  of  the  war.  Discipline  was 
relaxed  or  abandoned.  Their  officers  were  unable, 
perhaps  unwilling,  to  control  them.  They  too  re- 
garded the  Commonwealth  as  a  spoil  which  their 
swords  had  won,  and  which  they  were  entitled  to  dis- 
tribute among  themselves. 

In  Spain,  too,  a  bad  feeling  had  revived.  After 
Caesar's  departure  his  generals  had  oppressed  the 
people,  and  had  quarrelled  with  one  another.  The 
country  was  disorganized  and  disaffected.  In  Spain, 
as  in  Egypt,  there  was  a  national  party  still  dreaming 
of  independence.  The  smouldering  traditions  of  Ser- 
torius  were  blown  into  flame  by  the  continuance  of 
the  civil  war.  The  proud  motley  race  of  Spaniards, 
Italians,  Gauls,  indigenous  mountaineers,  Moors  from 
Africa,  the  remnants  of  the  Carthaginian  colonies, 
however  they  might  hate  one  another,  yet  united  in 
resenting  an  uncertain  servitude  under  the  alternate 
ascendency  of  Roman  factions.  Spain  was  ripe  for 
revolt.  Gaul  alone,  Caesar's  own  province,  rewarded 
him  for  the  use  which  he  had  made  of  his  victory,  by 
unswerving  loyalty  and  obedience. 

On  his  landing  in  Syria,  Caesar  found  letters  press- 
ing for  his  instant  return  to  Rome.  Important  per- 
sons were  waiting  to  give  him  fuller  information  than 
oould  be  safely  committed  to  writing.    He  would  have 


4:52  Ccesar, 

hastened  home  at  once,  but  restless  spirits  had  been 
let  loose  everywhere  by  the  conflict  of  the  Roman 
leaders.  Disorder  had  broken  out  near  at  hand.  The 
still  recent  defeat  of  Crassus  had  stirred  the  ambition 
of  the  Asiatic  princes ;  and  to  leave  the  Eastern  fron- 
tier disturbed  was  to  risk  a  greater  danger  to  the  Em- 
pire than  was  to  be  feared  from  the  impatient  politics 
of  the  Roman  mob,  or  the  dying  convulsions  of  the 
aristocracy. 

Pharnaces,  a  legitimate  son  of  Mithridates  the 
Great,  had  been  left  sovereign  of  Upper  Armenia. 
He  had  watched  the  collision  between  Pompey  and 
Caesar  with  a  neutrality  which  was  to  plead  for  him 
with  the  conqueror,  and  he  had  intended  to  make  his 
own  advantage  out  of  the  quarrels  between  his  father's 
enemies.  Deiotarus,  tributary  king  of  Lower  Arme- 
nia and  Colchis,  had  given  some  help  to  Pompey,  and 
had  sent  him  men  and  money  ;  and  on  Pompey's  de- 
feat, Pharnaces  had  supposed  that  he  might  seize  on 
Deiotarus's  territories  without  fear  of  Caesar's  resent- 
ment. Deiotarus  had  applied  to  Domitius  Calvinus 
for  assistance ;  which  Calvinus,  weakened  as  he  was 
by  the  dispatch  of  two  of  his  legions  to  Egypt,  had 
been  imperfectly  able  to  give.  Pharnaces  had  ad- 
vanced into  Cappadocia.  When  Calvinus  ordered 
him  to  retire,  he  had  replied  by  sending  presents, 
which  had  hitherto  proved  so  effective  with  Roman 
proconsuls,  and  by  an  equivocating  profession  of  readi- 
ness to  abide  by  Caesar's  decision.  Pharnaces  camo 
of  a  dangerous  race.  Caesar's  lieutenant  was  afraid 
that,  if  he  hesitated,  the  son  of  Mithridates  might  be- 
come as  troublesome  as  his  father  had  been.  He  re- 
fused the  presents.  Disregarding  his  weakness,  he 
sent  a  peremptory  command  to  Pharnaces  to  fall  back 


Pharnaces,  453 

witliin  his  own  frontiers,  and  advanced  to  compel  him 
if  he  refused.  In  times  of  excitement  the  minds  of 
men  are  electric,  and  news  travel  with  telegraphic 
rapidity  if  not  wdth  telegraphic  accuracy.  Pharnaces 
heard  that  Csesar  was  shut  up  in  Alexandria,  and  was 
in  a  position  of  extreme  danger,  that  he  had  sent  for 
all  his  Asiatic  legions,  and  that  Calvin  us  had  himself 
been  summoned  to  his  assistance.  Thus  he  thought 
that  he. might  safely  postpone  compliance  till  the  Ro- 
man army  was  gone,  and  he  had  the  country  to  him- 
self. The  reports  from  Egypt  were  so  unfavorable, 
that,  although  as  yet  he  had  received  no  positive  or- 
ders, Calvin  us  was  in  daily  expectation  that  he  would 
be  obliged  to  go.  It  would  be  unsafe,  he  thought,  to 
leave  an  insolent  barbarian  unchastised.  He  had 
learnt  in  Caesar's  school  to  strike  quickly.  He  had 
not  learnt  the  comparison  between  means  and  ends, 
without  which  celerity  is  imprudence.  He  had  but 
one  legion  left ;  but  he  had  a  respectable  number  of 
Asiatic  auxiliaries,  and  with  them  he  ventured  to  at- 
tack Pharnaces  in  an  intricate  position.  His  Asiatics 
deserted.  The  legion  behaved  admirably  ;  but  in  the 
face  of  overwhelming  numbers,  it  could  do  no  more 
than  cut  its  way  to  security.  Pharnaces  at  once  re- 
claimed his  father's  kingdom,  and  overran  Pontus, 
killing,  mutilating,  or  imprisoning  every  Roman  that 
he  encountered ;  and  in  this  condition  Caesar  found 
Asia  Minor  on  his  coming  to  Syria. 

It  was  not  in  Caesar's  character  to  leave  a  Roman 
province  behind  him  in  the  hands  of  an  invader,  for 
his  own  political  interests.  He  saw  that  he  must 
punish  Pharnaces  before  he  returned  to  Rome,  and 
he  immediately  addressed  himself  to  the  work.  He 
made  a  hasty  progress   through   the  Syrian   towns, 


454  Ccesar. 

hearing  complaints  and  distributing  rewards  and 
promotions.  The  allied  chiefs  came  to  him  from  the 
borders  of  the  province  to  pay  their  respects.  He 
received  them  graciously,  and  dismissed  them  pleased 
and  satisfied.  After  a  few  days  spent  thus,  he  sailed 
for  Cilicia,  held  a  council  at  Tarsus,  and  then  crossed 
the  Taurus,  and  went  by  forced  marches  through 
Cappadocia  to  Pontus.  He  received  a  legion  from 
Deiotarus  which  had  been  organized  in  Ronjan  fash- 
ion. He  sent  to  Calvinus  to  meet  him  v^ith  the  sur- 
vivors of  his  lost  battle  ;  and  when  they  arrived,  he 
reviewed  the  force  which  was  at  his  disposition.  It 
was  not  satisfactory.  He  had  brought  a  veteran 
legion  with  him  from  Egypt,  but  it  was  reduced  to  a 
thousand  strong.  He  had  another  which  he  had 
taken  up  in  Syria  ;  but  even  this  did  not  raise  his 
army  to  a  point  which  could  assure  him  of  success. 
But  time  pressed,  and  skill  might  compensate  for  de- 
fective numbers. 

Pharnaces,  hearing  that  Caesar  was  at  hand,  prom- 
ised submission.  He  sent  Caesar  a  golden  crown,  in 
anticipation  perhaps  that  he  was  about  to  make  him- 
self king.  He  pleaded  his  desertion  of  Pompey  as  a 
set-off  against  his  faults.  CiBsar  answered  that  he 
would  accept  the  submission,  if  it  were  sincere  ;  but 
Pharnaces  must  not  suppose  that  good  offices  to  him- 
self could  atone  for  injuries  to  the  Empire.^  The 
provinces  which  he  had  invaded  must  be  instantly 
evacuated ;  his  Roman  prisoners  must  be  released, 
and  their  property  must  be  restored  to  them. 

Pharnaces  was  a  politician,  and  knew  enough  of 
Csesar's  circumstances  to  mislead  him.     The  state  of 

1  "  Neque  provinciarum  injurias  condonari  iis  posse  qui  fuissent  ia  M 
•fficiosi."  ~De  Bello  Alexandrino,  70. 


Defeat  of  Pharnaces.  455 

Rome  required  CaBsar's  presence.  A  campaign  in 
Asia  would  occupy  more  time  than  he  could  afford, 
and  Pharnaces  calculated  that  he  must  be  gone  in  a 
few  days  or  weeks.  The  victory  over  Calvinus  had 
strengthened  his  ambition  of  emulating  his  father. 
He  delayed  his  answer,  shifted  from  place  to  place, 
and  tried  to  protract  the  correspondence  till  Csesar's 
impatience  to  be  gone  should  bring  him  to  agree  to  a 
compromise. 

Caesar  cut  short  negotiations.  Pharnaces  was  at 
Zela,  a  town  in  the  midst  of  mountains  behind  Trebi- 
zond,  and  the  scene  of  a  great  victory  which  had  been 
won  by  Mithridates  over  the  Romans.  Csesar  defied 
auguries.  He  seized  a  position  at  night  on  the  brow 
of  a  hill  directly  opposite  to  the  Armenian  camp,  and 
divided  from  it  by  a  narrow  valley.  As  soon  as  day 
broke  the  legions  were  busy  intrenching  with  their 
spades  and  pickaxes.  Pharnaces,  with  the  rashness 
which  if  it  fails  is  madness,  and  if  it  succeeds  is  the 
intuition  of  genius,  decided  to  fall  on  them  at  a  mo- 
ment when  no  sane  person  could  rationally  expect  an 
attack ;  and  Caesar  could  not  restrain  his  astonish- 
ment when  he  saw  the  enemy  pouring  down  the  steep 
side  of  the  ravine,  and  breasting  the  ascent  on  which 
he  stood.  It  was  like  the  battle  of  Maubeuge  over 
again,  with  the  difference  that  he  had  here  to  deal 
with  Asiatics,  and  not  with  the  Nervii.  There  was 
some  confusion  while  the  legions  were  exchanging 
their  digging  tools  for  their  arms.  When  the  ex- 
change had  been  made,  there  was  no  longer  a  battle, 
but  a  rout.  The  Armenians  were  hurled  back  down 
the  hill,  and  slaughtered  in  masses  at  the  bottom  of 
it.  The  camp  was  taken.  Pharnaces  escaped  for 
die  moment,  and  made  his  way  into  his  own  country ; 


466  Coesar, 

but  lie  was  killed  immediately  after,  and  Asia  Minor 
was  again  at  peace. 

Caesar,  caltii  as  usual,  but  well  satisfied  to  have 
ended  a  second  awkward  business  so  easily,  passed 
quickly  down  to  the  Hellespont,  and  had  landed  in 
Italy  before  it  was  known  that  he  had  left  Pontus. 


CHAPTER  XXIV. 

Cicero  considered  that  the  Civil  War  ought  to 
have  ended  with  Pharsalia;  and  in  this 
opinion  most  reasonable  men  among  the 
conservatives  were  agreed.  They  had  fought  one 
battle  ;  and  it  had  gone  against  them.  To  continue 
the  struggle  might  tear  the  Empire  to  pieces,  but 
could  not  retrieve  a  lost  cause;  and  prudence  and 
piitriotism  alike  recommended  submission  to  the  ver- 
dict of  fortune.  It  is  probable  that  this  would  have 
been  the  result,  could  Csesar  have  returned  to  Italy 
immediately  after  his  victory.  Cicero  himself  refused 
to  participate  in  further  resistance.  Cato  offered  him 
a  command  at  Corcyra,  but  he  declined  it  with  a 
shudder,  and  went  back  to  Brindisi ;  and  all  but  those 
whose  consciences  forbade  them  to  hope  for  pardon, 
or  who  were  too  proud  to  ask  for  it,  at  first  followed 
his  example.  Scipio,  Cato,  Labienus,  Afranius,  Pe- 
treius,  were  resolute  to  fight  on  to  the  last ;  but  even 
they  had  no  clear  outlook,  and  they  wandered  about 
the  Mediterranean,  uncertain  what  to  do,  or  whither 
to  turn.  Time  went  on,  however,  and  Caesar  did  not 
appear.  Rumor  said  at  one  time  that  he  was  de- 
stroyed at  Alexandria.  The  defeat  of  Calvin  us  by 
Pharnaces  was  an  ascertained  fact.  Spain  was  in 
confusion.  The  legions  in  Italy  were  disorganized, 
and  society,  or  the  wealthy  part  of  society,  threatened 
by  the  enemies  of  property,  began  to  call  for  some 
one  to  save  it.     All  was  not  lost.    Pompey's  best 


458  Ccesar, 

generals  were  still  living.  His  sons,  Sextiis  and 
(/nasus,  were  brave  and  able.  The  fleet  was  devoted 
to  them  and  to  their  father's  cause,  and  Caesar's 
officers  had  failed,  in  his  absence,  to  raise  a  naval 
force  which  could  show  upon  the  sea.  Africa  was  a 
convenient  rallying  point.  Since  Curio's  defeat,  King 
Juba  had  found  no  one  to  dispute  his  supremacy,  and 
between  Juba  and  the  aristocracy  who  were  bent  on 
persisting  in  the  war  an  alliance  was  easily  formed. 
While  Caesar  was  perilling  his  own  interest  to  remain 
in  Asia  to  crush  Pharnaces,  Metellus  Scipio  was  offer- 
ing a  barbarian  chief  the  whole  of  Roman  Africa  as 
the  price  of  his  assistance,  in  a  last  effort  to  reverse 
the  fortune  of  Pharsalia.  Under  these  scandalous 
conditions,  Scipio,  Labienus,  Cato,  Afranius,  Petreius, 
Faustus  Sylla  the  son  of  the  Dictator,  Lucius  Caesar, 
and  the  rest  of  the  irreconcilables  made  Africa  their 
new  centre  of  operations.  Here  they  gathered  to 
themselves  .the  inheritors  of  the  Syllan  traditions,  and 
made  raids  on  the  Italian  coasts  and  into  Sicily  and 
Sardinia.  Seizing  Csesar's  oflScers  when  they  could 
find  them,  they  put  them  invariably  to  death  without 
remorse.  Cicero  protested  honorably  against  the  em- 
ployment of  treacherous  savages,  even  for  so  sacred  a 
cause  as  the  defence  of  the  constitution  ;  ^  but  Cicero 
was  denounced  as  a  traitor  seeking  favor  with  the 
conqueror,  and  tlie  desperate  work  went  on.  Caesar's 
long  detention  in  the  East  gave  the  confederates  time. 
The  young  Pompeys  were  strong  at  sea.  From  Italy 
there  was  an  easy  passage  for  adventurous  disaffec- 
tion. The  shadow  of  a  Pompeian  Senate  sat  once 
more,  passing  resolutions,  at  Utica  ;  while  Cato  was 
busy  organizing  an  army,  and  had  collected  as  many 

1  To  Atticm,  xi.  7. 


Order  in  Rome  restored.  469 

as  thirteen  legions  out  of  the  miscellaneous  elements 
which  drifted  in  to  him..  Cassar  had  sent  orders  to 
Cassius  Longinus  to  pass  into  Africa  from  Spain,  and 
break  up  these  combinations  ;  but  Longinus  had  been 
at  war  with  his  own  provincials.  He  had  been  driven 
out  of  the  Peninsula,  and  had  lost  his  own  life  in 
leaving  it.  CaBsar,  like  Cicero,  had  believed  that  the 
war  had  ended  at  Pharsalia.  He  found  that  the 
heads  of  the  Hydra  had  sprouted  again,  and  were 
vomiting  the  old  fire  and  fury.  Little  interest  could 
it  give  Caesar  to  match  his  waning  years  against  the 
blinded 'hatred  of  his  countrymen.  Ended  the  strife 
must  be,  however,  before,  order  could  be  restored  in 
Italy,  and  wretched  men  take  up  again  the  quiet 
round  of  industry.  Heavy  work  had  to  be  done  in 
Rome.  Caesar  was  consul  now  —  annual  consul,  with 
no  ten  years'  interval  any  longer  possible.  Consul, 
Dictator,  whatever  name  the  people  gave  him,  he 
alone  held  the  reins  ;  he  alone  was  able  to  hold  them. 
Credit  had  to  be  restored  ;  debtors  had  to  be  brought 
to  recognize  their  liabilities.  Property  had  fallen  in 
value  since  the  Civil  Wars,  and  securities  had  to  be 
freshly  estimated.  The  Senate  required  reformation ; 
men  of  fidelity  and  ability  were  wanted  for  the  pub- 
lic offices.  Pompey  and  Pompey's  friends  would 
have  droAvned  Italy  in  blood.  Caesar  disappointed 
expectation  by  refusing  to  punish  any  one  of  his 
political  opponents.  He  killed  no  one.  He  deprived 
no  one  of  his  property.  He  even  protected  the  money- 
lenders, and  made  the  Jews  his  constant  friends. 
Debts  he  insisted  must  be  paid,  bonds  fulfilled,  the 
rights  of  property  respected,  no  matter  what  wild 
hopes  imagination  might  have  indulged  in.  Some- 
thing only  he  remitted  of  the  severity  of  interest,  and 


460  Cmar, 

the  poor  in  the  city  were  allowed  their  lodgings  rent 
free  for  a  year. 

He  restored  quiet,  and  gave  as  much  satisfaction  as 
circumstances  permitted.  His  real  difficulty  was 
with  the  legions,  who  had  come  back  from  Greece. 
They  had  deserved  admirably  well,  but  they  were 
unfortunately  over-conscious  of  their  merits.  Ill- 
intentioned  ofiicers  had  taught  them  to  look  for  ex- 
travagant rewards.  Their  expectations  had  not  been 
fulfilled ;  and  when  they  supposed  that  their  labors 
were  over  they  received  orders  to  prepare  for  a  cam- 
paign in  Africa.  Sallust  the  historian  was  in  com- 
mand at  their  quarters  in  Campania.  They  mu- 
tinied, and  almost  killed  him.  He  fled  to  Rome. 
The  soldiers  of  the  favored  10th  legion  pursued  him 
to  the  gates,  and  demanded  speech  with  Caesar.  He 
bade  them  come  to  him,  and  with  his  usual  fearless- 
ness told  them  to  bring  their  swords. 

The  army  was  Caesar's  life.  In  the  army  lay  the 
future  of  Rome,  if  Rome  was  to  have  a  future. 
There,  if  anywhere,  the  national  spirit  survived.  It 
was  a  trying  moment ;  but  there  was  a  calmness  in 
Caesar,  a  rising  from  a  profound  indifference  to  what 
man  or  fortune  could  give  or  take  from  him,  which 
no  extremity  could  shake. 

The  legionaries  entered  the  city,  and  Csesar  di- 
rected them  to  state  their  complaints.  They  spoke 
of  their  services  and  their  sufferings.  They  said 
that  they  had  been  promised  rewards,  but  their  re- 
wards so  far  had  been  words,  and  they  asked  for  their 
discharge.  They  did  not  really  wish  for  it.  They 
did  not  expect  it.  But  they  supposed  thafe  Cresar 
could  not  dispense  with  them,  and  that  they  might 
dictate  their  own  terms. 


Mutiny  in  the  Army,  461 

During  the  wars  in  Gaul,  Caesar  had  been  most 
munificent  to  his  soldiers.  He  had  doubled  their  or- 
dinar}^  pay.  He  had  shared  the  spoils  of  his  con- 
quests with  them.  Time  and  leisure  had  alone  been 
wanting  to  him  to  recompense  their  splendid  fidelity 
in  the  campaigns  in  Spain  and  Greece.  He  had 
treated  them  as  his  children;  no  commander  had 
ever  been  more  careful  of  his  soldiers'  lives ;  when 
addressing  the  army  he  had  called  them  always 
*'  comilitones,"  "  comrades,"  "  brothers-in-arms." 

The  familiar  word  was  now  no  longer  heard  from 
him.  "You  say  well,  Quirites,"^  he  answered; 
"  you  have  labored  hard,  and  you  have  suffered 
much  ;  you  desire  your  discharge  —  you  have  it.  I 
discharge  you  who  are  present.  I  discharge  all  who 
have  served  their  time.  You  shall  have  your  recom- 
pense. It  shall  never  be  said  of  me  that  I  made  use 
of  you  when  I  was  in  danger,  and  was  ungrateful  to 
you  when  the  peril  was  past." 

"  Quirites  "  he  had  called  them  ;  no  longer  Roman 
legionaries  proud  of  their  achievements,  and  glory- 
ing in  their  great  commander,  but  "Quirites"  — 
plain  citizens.  The  sight  of  Caesar,  the  familiar 
form  and  voice,  the  words,  every  sentence  of  which 
they  knew  that  he  meant,  cut  them  to  the  heart. 
They  were  humbled ;  they  begged  to  be  forgiven. 
They  said  they  would  go  with  him  to  Africa,  or  to 
the  world's  end.  He  did  not  at  once  accept  their 
penitence.  He  told  them  that  lands  had  been  al- 
lotted to  every  soldier  out  of  the  ager  publicus^  or 
out  of  his  own  personal  estates.  Suetonius  says  that 
the  sections  had  been  carefully  taken  so  as  not  to 
disturb   existing  occupants ;   and   thus  it   appeared 

^  Citizens. 


462  Ccesar, 

that  he  had  been  thinking  of  them  and  providing 
for  them  when  they  supposed  themselves  forgotten. 
Money,  too,  he  had  ready  for  each,  part  in  hand,  part 
in  bonds  bearing  interest  to  be  redeemed  when  the 
war  should  be  over.  Again,  passionately,  they  im- 
plored to  be  allowed  to  continue  with  him.  He  re- 
lented, but  not  entirely. 

"  Let  all  go  who  wish  to  go,"  he  said ;  "  I  will 
have  none  serve  with  me  who  serve  unwillingly." 

"  All,  all !  "  they  cried  ;  "not  one  of  us  will  leave 
you  "  —  and  not  one  went.  The  mutiny  was  the 
greatest  peril,  perhaps,  to  which  Csesar  had  ever 
been  exposed.  No  more  was  said ;  but  Caesar  took 
silent  notice  of  the  officers  who  had  encouraged  the 
discontented  spirit.  In  common  things,  Dion  Cassius 
says,  he  was  the  kindest  and  most  considerate  of 
commanders.  He  passed  lightly  over  small  offences  ; 
but  military  rebellion  in  those  who  were  really  re- 
sponsible he  never  forgave. 

The  African  business  could  now  be  attended  to. 
It  was  again  midwinter.  Winter  cam- 
paigns were  trying,  but  Caesar  had  hitherto 
found  them  answer  to  him,  the  enemy  had  suffered 
more  than  himself ;  while,  as  long  as  an  opposition 
Senate  was  sitting  across  the  Mediterranean,  intrigue 
and  conspiracy  made  security  impossible  at  home. 
Many  a  false  spirit  now  fawning  at  home  on  Csesar 
was  longing  for  his  destruction.  The  army  with 
which  he  would  have  to  deal  was  less  respectable 
than  that  which  Pompey  had  commanded  at  Du- 
razzo,  but  it  was  numerically  as  strong  or  stronger. 
Cato,  assisted  by  Labienus,  had  formed  into  legions 
sixty  thousand  Italians.  They  had  a  hundred  and 
twenty  elephants,  and  African  cavalry  in  uncounted 


Campaign  in  Africa,  463 

multitudes.  Caesar  perhaps  despised  an  enemy  too 
much  whom  he  had  so  often  beaten.  He  sailed  from 
Lilybaeum  on  the  19th  of  December,  with  a  mere 
handful  of  men,  leaving  the  rest  of  his  troops  to  fol- 
low as  they  could.  No  rendezvous  had  been  posi- 
tively fixed,  for  between  the  weather  and  the  enemy 
it  was  uncertain  where  the  troops  would  be  able  to 
land,  and  the  generals  of  the  different  divisions  were 
left  to  their  discretion.  Caesar  on  arriving  seized  and 
fortified  a  defensible  spot  at  Ruspinum.^  The  other 
legions  dropped  in  slowly,  and  before  a  third  of  them 
had  arrived  the  enemy  were  swarming  about  the 
camp,  while  the  Pompeys  were  alert  on  the  water  to 
seize  stray  transports  or  provision  ships.  There  was 
skirmishing  every  day  in  front  of  Caesar's  lines. 
The  Numidian  horse  surrounded  his  thin  cohorts  like 
swarms  of  hornets.  Labienus  himself  rode  up  on 
one  occasion  to  a  battalion  which  was  standing  stilj 
under  a  shower  of  arrows,  and  asked  in  mockery  wb*,» 
.they  were.  A  soldier  of  the  10th  legion  lifted  hio 
cap,  that  his  face  might  be  recognized,  hurled  hi;, 
javelin  for  answer,  and  brought  Labienus's  horse  to 
the  ground.  But  courage  was  of  no  avail  in  the  faco 
of  overwhelming  numbers.  Scipio's  army  collected 
faster  than  Caesar's,  and  Caesar's  young  soldiers 
showed  some  uneasiness  in  a  position  so  unexpected- 
Caesar,  however,  was  confident  and  in  high  spiritc. " 
Roman  residents  in  the  African  province  came  grao 
ually  in  to  him,  and  some  African  tribes,  out  of  re- 
spect, it  was  said,  for  the  memory  of  Marius.  A  few 
towns  declared  against  the  Senate  in  indignation  at 

1  "W  here  the  African  coast  turns  south  from  Cape  Bon. 

2  "  Animum  enim  altum  et  erectura  prae  se  gerebat.  —  De  Bello  Afru 


464  Ccesar. 

Scipio's  promise  that  the  province  was  to  be  aban- 
doned to  Juba.  Scipio  replied  with  burning  the  Ro- 
man country  houses  and  wasting  the  lands,  and  still 
killing  steadily  every  friend  of  Caesar  that  he  could 
lay  hands  on.  Csesar's  steady  clemency  had  made  no 
difference.  The  senatorial  faction  w^ent  on  as  they 
had  begun,  till  at  length  their  ferocity  was  repaid 
upon  them. 

The  reports  from  the  interior  became  unbearable. 
Caesar  sent  an  impatient  message  to  Sicily  that,  storm 
or  calm,  the  remaining  legions  must  come  to  him,  or 
not  a  house  would  be  left  standing  in  the  province. 
The  officers  were  no  longer  what  they  had  been. 
The  men  came,  but  bringing  only  their  arms  and 
tools,  without  change  of  clothes  and  without  tents, 
though  it  was  the  rainy  season.  Good-will  and  good 
hearts,  however,  made  up  for  other  shortcomings 
Deserters  dropped  in  thick  from  the  Senate's  army 
King  Juba,  it  appeared,  had  joined  them,  and  Roman 
pride  had  been  outraged,  when  Juba  had  been  seen 
taking  precedence  in  the  council  of  war,  and  Metellus 
Scipio  exchanging-  his  imperial  purple  in  the  royal 
presence  for  a  plain  dress  of  white. 

The  time  of  clemency  was  past.  Publius  Ligariua 
was  taken  in  a  skirmish.  He  had  been  one  of  the 
captives  at  Lerida  who  had  given  his  word  to  serve 
no  further  in  the  war.  He  was  tried  for  breaking 
his  engagement,  and  was  put  to  death.  Still  Scipio's 
army  kept  the  field  in  full  strength,  the  loss  by  deser- 
tions being  made  up  by  fresh  recruits  sent  from  Utica 
by  Cato,  Cassar's  men  flinched  from  facing  the  ele- 
April  6,  phants,  and  time  was  lost  while  other  ele- 
B.  c.  46.  pbants  were  fetched  from  Italy,  that  they 
qaight  handle  them  and   grow  familiar  with  thenu 


Battle  of  Thapsus.  465 

Sclplo  had  been  taught  caution  by  the  fate  of  Pom- 
pey,  and  avoided  a  battle,  and  thus  three  months 
wore  away  before  a  decisive  impression  had  been 
made.  But  the  clear  dark  eyes  of  the  cgn  jueror  of 
Pharsalia  had  taken  the  measure  of  the  situation  and 
comprehended  the  features  of  it.  By  this  time  he 
had  an  effective  squadron  of  ships,  which  had  swept 
off  Pompey's  cruisers ;  and  if  Scipio  shrank  from  an 
engagement  it  was  possible  to  force  him  into  it.  A 
division  of  Scipio's  troops  were  in  the  peninsula  of 
Thapsus.^  If  Thapsus  was  blockaded  at  sea  and  be- 
sieged by  land,  Scipio  would  be  driven  to  come  to  its 
relief,  and  would  have  to  fight  in  the  open  country. 
Caesar  occupied  the  neck  of  the  peninsula,  and  the  re- 
sult was  what  he  knew  it  must  be.  Scipio  and  Juba 
came  down  out  of  the  hills  with  their  united  armies. 
Their  legions  were  beginning  to  form  intrench ments, 
and  Caesar  was  leisurely  watching  their  operations, 
when  at  the  sight  of  the  enemy  an  irresistible  enthu- 
siasm ran  through  his  lines.  The  cry  rose  for  instant 
attack ;  and  Caesar,  yielding  willingly  to  the  universal 
impulse,  sprang  on  his  horse  and  led  the  charge  in 
person.  There  was  no  real  fighting.  The  elephants 
which  Scipio  had  placed  in  front  wheeled  about,  and 
plunged  back  into  the  camp  trumpeting  and  roaring. 
The  vallum  was  carried  at  a  rush,  and  afterwards 
there  was  less  a  battle  than  a  massacre.  Officers 
and  men  fled  for  their  lives  like  frightened  antelopes, 
or  flung  themselves  on  their  for  knees  mercy.  This 
time  no  mercy  was  shown.  The  deliberate  cruelty 
with  which  the  war  had  been  carried  on  had  done  its 
work  at  last.  The  troops  were  savage,  and  killed  every 
man  that  they  overtook.     Caesar  tried  to  check  the 

1  Between  Carthage  and  Utica. 
30 


46(5  Ccesar. 

carnage,  but  bis  efforts  were  unavailing.  Tbe  leaders 
escaped  for  tbe  time  by  tbe  speed  of  tbeir 
horses.  Tbey  scattered  with  a  general  pur- 
pose of  making  for  Spain.  LaMenus  readied  it,  but 
few  besides  bim.  Afranius  and  Faustus  Sylla  with 
a  party  of  cavalry  galloped  to  Utica,  wbicli  tbey  ex- 
pected to  bold  till  one  of  tbe  Porapeys  could  bring 
vessels  to  take  tbem  off.  Tbe  Utican  townspeople 
had  from  the  first  shown  an  inclination  for  Csesar. 
Neither  tbey  nor  any  other  Romans  in  Africa  liked 
the  prospect  of  being  passed  over  to  tbe  barbarians. 
Cowards  smarting  under  defeat  are  always  cruel. 
Tbe  fugitives  from  Thapsus  found  that  Utica  would 
not  be  available  for  their  purpose,  and  in  revenge 
tbey  began  to  massacre  the  citizens.  Cato  was  still 
in  the  town.  Cato  was  one  of  those  better  natured 
men  whom  revolution  yokes  so  often  with  base  com- 
panionship. He  was  shocked  at  the  needless  cruelty, 
and  bribed  tbe  murderous  gang  to  depart.  Tbey 
were  taken  soon  afterwards  by  Caesar's  cavalry. 
Afranius  and  Sylla  were  brought  into  the  camp  as 
prisoners.  There  was  a  discussion  in  tbe  camp  as  to 
what  was  to  be  done  with  them.  Caesar  wished  to 
be  lenient,  but  tbe  feeling  in  the  legions  was  too 
utrong.  The  system  of  pardons  could  not  be  con- 
tinued in  the  face  of  hatred  so  envenomed.  Tbe  two 
commanders  were  executed ;  Caesar  contenting  him- 
self with  securing  Sylla's  property  for  bis  wife,  Pom- 
peia,  the  great  Pompey's  daughter.  Cato  Caesar  was 
most  anxious  to  save  ;  but  Cato's  enmity  was  so  un- 
governable that  he  grudged  Caesar  the  honor  of  for- 
giving him.  His  animosity  bad  been  originally  the 
naturally  antipathy  which  a  man  of  narrow  under- 
standing instinctively  feels  for  a  man  of  genius.     It 


Death  of  Cato,  467 

had  been  converted  by  perpetual  disappointment 
into  a  monomania,  and  Caesar  had  become  to  hira 
tlie  incarnation  of  every  quality  and  every  principle 
which  he  most  abhorred.  Cato  was  upright,  unself- 
ish, incorruptibly  pure  in  deed  and  word  ;  but  he  was 
a  fanatic  whom  no  experience  could  teach,  and  he  ad- 
hered to  his  convictions  with  the  more  tenacity,  be- 
cause fortune  or  the  disposition  of  events  so  steadily 
declared  them  to  be  mistaken.  He  would  have  sur- 
rendered Cyesar  to  the  Germans  as  a  reward  for  hav- 
ing driven  them  back  over  the  Rhine.  He  was  one 
of  those  who  were  most  eager  to  impeach  him  for  the 
acts  of  his  consulship,  though  the  acts  themselves 
were  such  as,  if  they  had  been  done  by  another,  he 
would  himself  have  most  warmly  approved  ;  and  he 
was  tempted  by  personal  dislike  to  attach  himself  to 
men  whose  object  was  to  reimpose  upon  his  country 
a  new  tyranny  of  Sylla.  His  character  had  given 
respectability  to  a  cause  which  if  left  to  its  proper 
defenders  would  have  appeared  in  its  natural  base- 
ness, and  thus  on  him  rested  the  responsibility  for 
the  color  of  justice  in  which  it  was  disguised.  That 
after  all  which  had  passed  he  should  be  compelled  to 
accept  his  pardon  at  Caesar's  hands  was  an  indignity 
to  which  he  could  not  submit,  and  before  the  con- 
queror could  reach  Utica  he  fell  upon  his  sword  and 
died.  Ultimus  Romanorum  has  been  the  epitaph 
which  posterity  has  written  on  the  tomb  of  Cato. 
N(->bler  Romans  than  he  lived  after  him  ;  and  a  genu- 
ine son  of  the  .old  Republic  woidd  never  have  con- 
sented to  surrender  an  Imperial  province  to  a  bar- 
Darian  prince.  But  at  least  he  was  an  open  enemy. 
He  would  not,  like  his  nephew  Brutus,  have  pre- 
tended to  be  Caesar's  friend,  that  he  might  the  more 
conveniently  drive  a  dagger  into  his  side. 


468  Ccesar, 

The  rest  of  the  party  was  broken  up.  Scipio  sailed 
for  Spain,  but  was  driven  back  by  foul  weather  into 
Hippo,  where  he  was  taken  and  killed.  His  corre- 
spondence was  found  and  taken  to  Caesar,  who  burnt 
it  unread,  as  he  had  burnt  Pompey's.  The  end  of 
Juba  and  Petreius  had  a  wild  splendor  about  it. 
They  had  fled  together  from  Thapsus  to  Zama,  Juba's 
•own  principal  city,  and  they  were  refused  admission. 
Disdaining  to  be  taken  prisoners,  as  they  knew  they 
inevitably  would  be,  they  went  to  a  country  house  in 
the  neighborhood  belonging  to  the  king.  There,  after 
a  last  sumptuous  banquet,  they  agreed  to  die  like  war- 
riors by  each  other's  hand.  Juba  killed  Petreius,  and 
then  ran  upon  his  own  sword. 

So  the  actors  in  the  drama  were  passing  away.  Do- 
mitius,  Pompey,  Lentulus,  Ligarius,  Metellus  Scipio, 
Afranius,  Cato,  Petreius,  had  sunk  into  bloody 
graves.  Labienus  had  escaped  clear  from  the  battle ; 
and  knowing  that  if  Csesar  himself  would  pardon  him 
Cagsar's  army  never  would,  he  made  his  way  to  Spain, 
where  one  last,  desperate  hope  remained.  The  mu- 
tinous legions  of  Cassius  Longinus  had  declared  for 
the  Senate.  Some  remnants  of  Pompey's  troops  who 
had  been  dismissed  after^  Lerida  had  been  collected 
again  and  joined  them;  and  these,  knowing,  as  Labi- 
enus knew,  that  they  had  sinned  beyond  forgiveness, 
were  prepared  to  fight  to  the  last  and  die  at  bay. 

One  memorable  scene  in  the  African  campaign 
must  not  be  forgotten.  While  Caesar  was  in  difiicul- 
tves  at  Ruspinum,  and  was  impatiently  waiting  for  his 
legions  from  Sicil}^,  there  arrived  a  general  officer  of 
the  10th,  named  Caius  Avienus,  who  had  occupied 
the  whole  of  one  of  the  transports  with  his  personal 
servants,  horses,  and  other  conveniences,  and  bad  not 


Discipline  in  Ccesar^s  Army,  469 

brought  with  him  a  single  soldier.  Avienus  had  been 
already  privately  noted  by  Caesar  as  having  been  con- 
nected with  the  mutiny  in  Campania.  His  own  hab- 
its in  the  field  were  simple  in  the  extreme,  and  he 
hated  to  see  his  officers  self-indulgent.  He  used  the 
opportunity  to  make  an  example  of  him  and  of  one 
or  two  others  at  the  same  time. 

He  called  his  tribunes  and  centurions  together, 
"  I  could  wish,"  he  said,  "  that  certain  persons  would 
have  remembered  for  themselves  parts  of  their  past 
conduct  which,  though  I  overlooked  them,  were 
known  to  me ;  I  could  wish  they  would  have  atoned 
for  these  faults  by  special  attention  to  their  duties. 
As  they  have  not  chosen  to  do  this,  I  must  make  an 
example  of  them  as  a  warning  to  others. 

"You,  Caius  Avienus,  instigated  soldiers  in  the 
service  of  the  State  to  mutiny  against  their  command- 
ers. You  oppressed  towns  which  were  under  your 
charge.  Forgetting  your  duty  to  the  army  and  to 
me,  you  filled  a  vessel  wath  your  own  establishment 
which  was  intended  for  the  transport  of  troops  ;  and 
at  a  difficult  moment  we  were  thus  left,  through  your 
means,  without  the  men  whom  we  needed.  For  these 
causes,  and  as  a  mark  of  disgrace,  I  dismiss  you  from 
the  service,  and  I  order  you  to  leave  Africa  by  the 
first  ship  which  sails. 

"  You,  Aulus  Fonteius  [another  tribune],  have 
been  a  seditious  and  a  bad  officer.  I  dismiss  you 
i,lso. 

"  You,  Titus  Salienus,  Marcus  Tiro,  Caius  Clusinas, 
^^enturions,  obtained  your  commissions  by  favor,  not 
by  merit.  You  have  shown  want  of  courage  in  the 
Seld ;  your  conduct  otherwise  has  been  uniformly 
bad  ;  you  have  encouraged  a  mutinous  spirit  in  your 


470  Ccesar, 

companies.  You  are  unworthy  to  serve  under  my 
command.  You  are  dismissed,  and  will  return  to 
Italy." 

The  five  offenders  were  sent  under  guard  on  board 
ship,  each  noticeably  being  allowed  a  single  slave  to 
wait  upon  him,  and  so  were  expelled  fro"m  the  coun- 
try. 

This  remarkable  picture  of  Caesar's  method  of  en- 
forcing discipline  is  described  by  a  person  who  was 
evidently  present ;  ^  and  it  may  be  taken  as  a  correc- 
tion to  the  vague  stories  of  his  severity  to  these  offi- 
cers which  are  told  by  Dion  Cassius. 

1  De  Bella  Africano,  c.  54.    This  remarkably  interesting:  narrative  if 
attached  to  Csesar's  Commentaries.    The  author  is  unknown. 


CHAPTER  XXV. 

The  drift  of  disaffection  into  Spain  was  held  at  first 
to  be  of  little  moment.    The  battle  of  Thap- 

B.  C.  46. 

BUS,  the  final  breaking  up  of  the  senatorial 
party,  and  the  deaths  of  its  leaders  were  supposed 
to  have  brought  an  end  at  last  to  the  divisions  which 
had  so  kmg  convulsed  the  Empire.  Rome  put  on  its 
best  dress.  The  people  had  been  on  Ca3sar's  side 
from  the  first.  Those  who  still  nursed  in  their  hearts 
the  old  animosity  were  afraid  to  show  it,  and  the  na- 
tion appeared  once  more  united  in  enthusiasm  for  the 
conqueror.  There  were  triumphal  processions  which 
lasted  for  four  days.  There  were  sham  fights  on  ar- 
tificial lakes,  bloody  gladiator  shows,  which  the  Ro- 
man populace  looked  for  as  their  special  delight. 
The  rejoicings  being  over,  business  began.  Caesar 
was,  of  course,  supreme.  He  was  made  Inspector  of 
Public  Morals,  the  censorship  being  deemed  inade- 
quate to  curb  the  inordinate  extravagance.  He  was 
named  Dictator  for  ten  years,  with  a  right  of  nomi- 
nating the  persons  whom  the  people  were  to  choose 
xor  their  consuls  and  praetors.  The  clubs  and  cau- 
cuses, the  bribery  of  the  tribes,  the  intimidation,  the 
organized  bands  of  voters  formed  out  of  the  clients  of 
the  aristocracy,  were  all  at  an  end.  The  courts  of 
law  were  purified.  No  more  judges  were  to  be 
bought  with  money  or  by  fouler  temptations.  The 
Leges  Juliae  became  a  practical  reality.  One  remark- 
able and  durable  reform  was  undertaken  and  carried 


472  Ccesar, 

through  amidst  the  jests  of  Cicero  and  the  other  wits 
of  the  time — -the  revision  of  the  Roman  calendar. 
The  distribution  of  the  year  had  been  governed  hith- 
erto by  the  motions  of  the  moon.  The  twelve  annual 
moons  had  fixed  at  twelve  the  number  of  the  months, 
and  the  number  of  days  required  to  bring  the  lunar 
year  into  correspondence  with  the  solar  had  been  sup- 
plied by  irregular  intercalations,  at  the  direction  of 
tlie  Sacred  College.  But  the  Sacred  College  during 
the  last  distracted  century  had  neglected  their  office. 
The  lunar  year  was  now  sixty-five  days  in  advance  of 
the  sun.  The  so-called  winter  was  really  the  autumn, 
the  spring  the  winter.  The  summer  solstice  fell  at 
the  beginning  of  the  legal  September.  On  Ca3sar  as 
Pontifex  Maximus  devolved  the  duty  of  bringing  con- 
fusion into  order,  and  the  completeness  with  which 
the  work  was  accomplished  at  the  first  moment  of  his 
leisure  shows  that  he  had  found  time  in  the  midst  of 
his  campaigns  to  think  of  other  things  than  war  or 
politics.  Sosigenes,  an  Alexandrian  astronomer,  was 
called  in  to  superintend  the  reform.  It  is  not  un- 
likely that  he  had  made  acquaintance  with  Sosigenes 
in  Egypt,  and  had  discussed  the  problem  with  him  in 
the  hours  during  which  he  is  supposed  to  have  amused 
himself  "  in  the  arms  of  Cleopatra."  Sosigenes,  leav- 
ing the  moon  altogether,  took  the  sun  for  the  basis  of 
the  new  system.  The  Alexandrian  observers  had  dis- 
covered that  the  annual  course  of  the  sun  was  com- 
pleted in  865  days  and  six  hours.  The  lunar  twelve 
was  allowed  to  remain  to  fix  the  number  of  the 
months.  The  numbers  of  days  in  each  month  were 
adjusted  to  absorb  365  days.  The  superfluous  hours* 
were  allowed  to  accumulate,  and  every  fourth  year  an 
additional   day  was   to   be   intercalated.     An   arbi- 


Reform  of  the  Calendar,  473 

trary  step  was  required  to  repair  the  negligence  of  the 
past.  Sixty-five  days  had  still  to  be  made  good. 
The  new  system,  depending  wholly  on  the  sun,  would 
naturally  have  commenced  with  the  winter  solstice. 
But  Csesar  so  far  deferred  to  usage  as  to  choose  to  be- 
gin, not  with  the  solstice  itself,  but  with  the  first  new 
moon  which  followed.  It  so  happened,  in  that  year 
that  the  new  moon  was  eiffht  days  after  the 

,      .  ,      ,  ,  °  '^  ,  B.C.  45. 

solstice;  and  thus  the  next  year  started,  as 
it  continues  to  start,  from  the  1st  of  January.  The 
eight  days  were  added  to  the  sixty-five,  and  the  cur- 
rent year  was  lengthened  by  nearly  three  months.  It 
pleased  Cicero  to  mock,  as  if  Csesar,  not  contented 
with  the  earth,  was  making  himself  the  master  of  the 
heavens.  "  Lyra,"  he  said,  *'  was  to  set  according  to 
the  Edict ; "  but  the  unwise  man  was  not  Caisar  in 
this  instance.^ 

1  In  connection  with  this  subject  it  is  worth  while  to  mention  another 
change  in  the  division  of  time,  not  introduced  by  Caesar,  but  which  came 
into  general  use  about  a  century  after.  The  week  of  seven  days  was  un- 
known to  the  Greeks  and  to  the  Romans  of  the  Commonwealth,  the  days  of 
the  month  being  counted  by  the  phases  of  the  moon.  The  seven  daj's 
division  was  supposed  by  the  Romans  to  be  Egyptian.  We  know  it  to 
have  been  Jewiirh,  and  it  was  probably  introduced  to  the  general  world  on 
the  first  spread  of  Christianity.  It  was  universally  adopted  at  any  rate 
after  Christianity  had  been  planted  in  different  parts  of  the  Empire,  but 
while  the  Government  and  the  mass  of  the  people  were  si  ill  unconverted  to 
the  new  religion.  The  week  was  accepted  for  its  convenience;  but  while 
accepted  it  was  paganized;  and  the  seven  days  were  allotted  to  the  five 
planets  and  the  sun  and  moon  in  the  order  which  still  survives  among  the 
Latin  nations,  and  here  in  England  with  a  further  introduction  of  Scandi- 
navian niA'thology.  The  principle  of  the  distribution  was  what  is  popularly 
called  **  the  music  of  the  spheres,"  and  turns  on  a  law  of  Greek  music, 
which  is  called  b}'  Dion  Cassius  the  apfj-ovia  Sia  rea-crdptov.  Assuming  the 
earth  to  be  the  centre  of  the  universe,  the  celestial  bodies  which  have  a 
proper  movement  of  their  own  among  the  stars  were  arranged  in  the  order 
^f  their  apparent  periods  of  revolution  —  Saturn,  Jupiter,  Mars,  the  Sun, 
Venus,  Mercury,  the  Moon.  The  Jewish  Jehovah  was  identified  by  the 
Grseco-Romans  with  Saturn,  the  oldest  of  the  heathen  personal  gods.  The 
Sabbath  was  the  day  supposed  to  be  specially  devoted  to  him.     The  first 


474  (Jcesar. 

While  Sosigenes  was  at  work  with  the  calendar, 
Caesar  personally  again  revised  the  Senate.  He  ex- 
pelled every  member  who  had  been  guilty  of  extor- 
tion or  corruption  ;  he  supplied  the  vacancies  with 
officers  of  merit,  with  distinguished  colonists,  with 
foreigners,  with  meritorious  citizens,  even  including 
Gauls,  from  all  parts  of  the  Empire.  Time,  unfortu- 
nately, had  to  pass  before  these  new  men  could  take 
their  places,  but  meanwhile  he  treated  the  existing 
body  with  all  forms  of  respect,  and  took  no  step  on 
any  question  of  public  moment  till  the  Senate  had  de- 
liberated on  it.  As  a  fitting  close  to  the  war  he  pro- 
claimed an  amnesty  to  all  who  had  borne  arms  against 
him.  The  past  was  to  be  forgotten,  and  all  his  efforts 
were  directed  to  the  regeneration  of  Roman  society. 
Cicero  paints  the  habits  of  fashionable  life  in  colors 
which  were  possibly  exaggerated;  but  enough  re- 
mains of  authentic  fact  to  justify  the  general  truth  of- 
the  picture.  Women  had  forgotten  their  honor,  chil- 
dren their  respect  for  parents.  Husbands  had  mur- 
dered wives,  and  wives  husbands.  Parricide  and 
incest  formed  common  incidents  of  domestic  Italian 
history;  and,  as  justice  had  been  ordered  in  the  last 
years  of  the  Republic,  the  most  abandoned  villain  who 
came  into  court  with  a  handful  of  gold  was  assured  of 
impunity.  Rich  men,  says  Suetonius,  were  never  de- 
terred from  crime  by  a  fear  of  forfeiting  their  estates ; 

day  of  the  week  was  therefore  given  to  Saturn.  Passing  over  Jupiter  and 
Mars,  according  to  the  laws  of  the  apfxofia,  the  next  day  was  given  to  the 
Sun ;  again  passing  over  two,  the  next  to  the  Moon,  and  so  on,  going  round 
again  to  the  rest,  till  the  still  existing  order  came  out:  —  Dies  Saturn i,  dies 
Soils,  dies  Lunss,  dies  Martis,  dies  Mercurii,  dies  Jovis,  and  dies  Veneris. 
Dion  Casaius,  See  IJistoria  Romann,  lib.  xxxvii,  c  18.  Dion  Cassius  gives 
a  second  account  of  the  distribution,  depending  on  the  twenty-four  hours 
>f  the  day.  But  the  twenty-four  hours  being  a  division  purely  artificial, 
this  explanation  is  of  less  interest. 


Dissatisfaction  of  Cicero,  475 

they  had  but  to  leave  Italy,  and  their  property  was 
secured  to  them.  It  was  held  an  extraordinary  step 
towards  improvement  when  Caesar  abolished  the  mon- 
strous privilege,  and  ordered  that  parricides  should 
not  only  be  exiled,  but  should  forfeit  everything  that 
belonged  to  tbem,  and  that  minor  felons  should  forfeit 
half  their  estates. 

Cicero  had  prophesied  so  positively  that  C£8sar 
would  throw  off  the  mask  of  clemency  when  the  need 
for  it  was  gone,  that  he  was  disappointed  to  find  him 
persevere  in  the  same  gentleness,  and  was  impatient 
for  revenge  to  begin.  So  bitter  Cicero  was  that  he 
once  told  Atticus  he  could  almost  wish  himself  to  be 
the  object  of  some  cruel  prosecution,  that  the  tyrant 
might  have  the  disgrace  of  it.^ 

He  could  not  deny  that  "  the  tyrant  "  was  doing 
what,  if  Rome  was  to  continue  an  ordered  common- 
wealth, it  was  essential  must  be  done.  Csesar's  acts 
were  unconstitutional  I  Yes ;  but  constitutions  are 
made  for  men,  not  men  for  constitutions,  and  Cicero 
had  long  seen  that  the  constitution  was  at  an  end. 
It  had  died  of  its  own  iniquities.  He  had  perceived 
in  his  better  moments  that  Csesar,  and  Caesar  only, 
could  preserve  such  degrees  of  freedom  as  could  be 
retained  without  universal  destruction.  But  he  re- 
fused to  be  comforted.  He  considered  it  a  disgrace 
to  them  all  that  Csesar  was  alive.^  Why  did  not 
somebody  kill  him  ?  Kill  him  ?  And  what  then  ? 
On  that  side  too  the  outlook  was  not  promising. 
News  had  come  that  Labienus  and  young  Cnasus 
Pompey  had  united  their  forces  in  Spain.  The  whole 
Peninsula  was  in  revolt,  and  the  counter-revolution 

1  To  Atticus,  X.  12. 

2  "  Cum  vivere  ipsum  turpe  sit  nobis."  —  To  Atticus^  xiii.  28. 


476  Cocsar, 

was  not  impossible  after  all.  He  reflected  with  ter- 
ror on  the  sarcasms  which  he  had  flung  on  young 
Pompey.  He  knew  him  to  be  a  fool  and  a  savage. 
*'  Hang  me,"  he  said,  "  if  I  do  not  prefer  an  old  and 
kind  master  to  trying  experiments  with  a  new  and 
cruel  one.  The  laugh  will  be  on  the  other  side 
then."  1 

Far  had  Cicero  fallen  from  his  dream  of  being  the 
greatest  man  in  Rome  !  Condemned  to  immortality 
by  his  genius,  yet  condemned  also  to  survive  in  the 
portrait  of  himself  which  he  has  so  unconsciously  and 
so  innocently  drawn. 

The  accounts  from  Spain  were  indeed  most  serious. 
It  is  the  misfortune  of  men  of  superior  military  abil- 
ity that  their  subordinates  are  generally  failures  when 
trusted  with  independent  commands.  Accustomed  to 
obey  implicitly  the  instructions  of  their  chief,  they 
have  done  what  they  have  been  told  to  do,  and -their 
virtue  has  been  in  never  thinking  for  themselves. 
They  succeed,  and  they  forget  why  they  succeed,  and 
in  part  attribute  their  fortune  to  their  own  skill. 
With  Alexander's  generals,  wdth  Caesar's,  with  Crom- 
well's, even  with  some  of  Napoleon's,  the  story  has 
been  the  same.  They  have  been  self-confident,  yet 
when  thrown  upon  their  own  resources  they  have 
driven  back  upon  a  judgment  wdiicli  has  been  inade- 
quately trained.  The  mind  which  guided  them  is 
absent.  The  instrument  is  called  on  to  become  self- 
acting,  and  necessarily  acts  unwisely.  Caesar's  lieu- 
tenarts  while  under  his  own  eye  had  executed  his 

1  "Pjream  nisi  sollicitus  sum,  ac  malo  veterem  et  clementem  dominura 
habere,  quam  novum  et  crudelem  experiri.  Scis,  Cnseus  quam  sit  fatuus. 
Scis,  quomodo  crudelitatem  virtutem  putet  Scis,  quam  se  semper  a  nobis 
derisom  putet.  Vereor,  ne  nos  rustice  glaaio  velit  di/TiMUKTJjpiVai."  —  T* 
CeUiu  Cassius,  Ad  Fam.  xv.  19. 


Ccesars  Officers  in  Spain,  'ill 

orders  with  the  precision  of  a  machine.  When  left 
to  their  own  responsibility  they  were  invariably  found 
wanting.  Among  all  his  officers  there  was  not  a  man 
of  real  eminence.  Labienus,  the  ablest  of  them,  had 
but  to  desert  Caesar,  to  commit  blunder  upon  blunder, 
and  to  ruin  the  cause  to  which  he  attached  himself, 
Antony,  Lepidus,  Trebonius,  Calvinus,  Cassius  Lon- 
ginus,  Quintus  Cicero,  Sabinus,  Decimus  Brutus,  Va- 
tinius,  were  trusted  with  independent  authority,  only 
to  show  themselves  unfit  to  use  it.  Cicero  had  guessed 
shrewdly  that  Caesar's  greatest  difficulties  would  be- 
gin with  his  victory.  He  had  not  a  man  who  was 
able  to  govern  under  him  away  from  his  immediate 
eye. 

Cassius  Longinus,  Trebonius,  and  Marcus  Lepidus 
had  been  sent  to  Spain  after  the  battle  of  Pharsalia. 
They  had  quarrelled  among  themselves.  They  had 
driven  the  legions  into  mutiny.  The  authority  of 
Rome  had  broken  down  as  entirely  as  when  Sertorius 
was  defying  the  Senate  ;  and  Spain  had  become  the 
receptacle  of  all  the  active  disaffection  which  re- 
mained in  the  Empire.  Thither  had  drifted  the 
wreck  of  Scipio's  African  army.  Thither  had  gath- 
ered the  outlaws,  pirates,  and  banditti  of  Italy  and 
the  Islands.  Thither  too  had  come  ffights  of  Numid- 
ians  and  Moors  in  hopes  of  plunder  ;  and  Pompey's 
eons  and  Labienus  had  collected  an  army  as  numer- 
ous as  that  which  had  been  defeated  at  Thapsus,  and 
composed  of  materials  far  more  dangerous  and  des- 
perate. There  were  thirteen  legions  of  them  in  all, 
regularly  formed,  with  eagles  and  standards  ;  two 
which  had  deserted  from  Trebonius  ;  one  made  out  of 
Roman  Spanish  settlers,  or  old*  soldiers  of  Pompey's 
who  had  been  dismissed  at  Lerida ;  four  out  of  the 


478  Ccesar, 

remnants  of  tlie  campaign  in  Africa ;  the  rest  a  mis- 
cellaneous combination  of  the  mutinous  legions  of 
Longinus  and  outlawed  adventurers  who  knew  that 
there  was  no  forgiveness  for  them,  and  were  ready  to 
fight  while  they  could  stand.  It  was  the  last  cast  of 
the  dice  for  the  old  party  of  the  aristocracy.  Ap- 
pearances were  thrown  off.  There  were  no  m(»re 
Catos,  no  more  phantom  Senates. to  lend  to  rebellion 
the  pretended  dignity  of  a  national  cause.  The  true 
barbarian  was  there  in  his  natural  colors,  i 

Very  reluctantly  Cassar  found  that  he  must  him- 
self grapple  with  this  "last  convulsion.  The  sanguin- 
ary obstinacy  which  no  longer  proposed  any  object  to 
itself  save  defiance  and  revenge,  was  converting  a 
war  which  at  first  wore  an  aspect  of  a  legitimate  con- 
stitutional struggle,  into  a  conflict  with  brigands. 
Clemency  had  ceased  to  be  possible,  and  Caesar  would 
have  gladly  left  to  others  the  execution  in  person  of 
the  sharp  surgery  which  was  now  necessary.  He 
was  growing  old :  fifty-five  this  summer.  His  health 
was  giving  way.  For  fourteen  years  he  had  known 
no  rest.  That  he  could  have  endured  so  long  such  a 
strain  on  mind  and  body  was  due  only  to  his  extraor- 
dinary abstinence,  to  the  simplicity  of  his  habits,  and 
the  calmness  of  temperament  which  in  the  most  anx- 
ious moments  refused  to  "be  agitated.  But  the  work 
was  telling  at  last  on  his  constitution,  and  he  departed 
on  his  last  campaign  with  confessed  unwillingness. 
The  future  was  clouded  with  uncertainty.  A  few 
more  years  of  life  might  enable  him  to  introduce  into 
the  shattered  frame  of  the  Commonwealth  some  dura- 
ble elements.  His  death  in  the  existing  confusion 
might  be  as  fatal  as  Alexander's.  That  some  one 
person  not  liable  to  removal  under  the  annual  wave 


Last  Campaign  in  Spain,  479 

of  electoral  agitation  must  preside  over  the  army  and 
the  administration,  had  been  evident  in  lucid  mo- 
ments even  to  Cicero.  To  leave  the  prize  to  be  con- 
tended for  among  the  military  chiefs  was  to  bequeath 
a  legacy  of  civil  wars  and  probable  disruption  ;  to 
compound  with  the  embittered  remnants  of  the  aris- 
tocracy who  were  still  in  the  field  would  intensify  the 
danger ;  yet  time  and  peace  alone  could  give  oppor- 
tunity for  the  conditions  of  a  permanent  settlement 
to  shape  themselves.  The  name  of  CsBsar  had  be- 
come identified  with  the  stability  of  the  Empire. 
He  no  doubt  foresaw  that  the  only  possible  chief 
would  be  found  in  his  own  family.  Being  himself 
childless,  he  had  adopted  his  sister's  grandson,  Octa- 
vius,  afterwards  Augustus,  a  fatherless  boy  of  seven- 
teen ;  and  had  trained  him  under  his  own  eye.  He 
had  discerned  qualities  doubtless  in  his  nephew  which, 
if  his  own  life  was  extended  for  a  few  years  longer, 
might  enable  the  boy  to  become  the  representative  of 
his  house  and  perhaps  the  heir  of  his  power.  In  the 
unrecorded  intercourse  between  the  uncle  and  his 
niece's  child  lies  the  explanation  of  the  rapidity  with 
which  the  untried  Octavius  seized  the  reins  when  all 
was  again  chaos,  and  directed  the  Commonwealth 
upon  the  lines  which  it  was  to  follow  during  the  re- 
maining centuries  of  Roman  power. 

Octavius  accompanied  Cassar  into  Spain.  They 
travelled  in  a  carriage,  having  as  a  third  with  them 
the  general  whom  Caesar  most  trusted  and  liked,  and 
whom  he  had  named  in  his  will  as  one  of  Octavius's 
guardians,  Decimus  Brutus  —  the  same  officer  who 
had  commanded  his  fleet  for  him  at  Quiberon  and  at 
Marseilles,  and  had  now  been  selected  as  the  future 
governor  of  Cisalpine  Gaul.     Once  more  it  was  mid- 


480  Ccesar, 

winter  when  they  left  Rome.  They  travelled  swiftly  ; 
and  Caesar,  as  usual,  himself  brought  the  news  thai 
he  was  coming.  But  the  winter  season  did  not  bring 
to  him  its  usual  advantages,  for  the  whole  Peninsula 
had  revolted,  and  Pompey  and  Labienus  were  able  to 
shelter  their  troops  in  the  towns,  while  Caesar  was 
obliged  to  keep  the  field.  Attempts  here  and  there 
to  capture  detached  positions  led  to  no  results.  On 
both  sides  now  the  war  was  carried  on  upon  the  prin- 
ciples which  the  Senate  had  adopted  from  the  first. 
Prisoners  from  the  revolted  legions  were  instantly  ex- 
ecuted, and  Cnseus  Pompey  murdered  the  provincials 
whom  he  suspected  of  an  inclination  for  Csesar.  At- 
tagona  was  at  last  taken.  Caesar  moved  on  Cordova ; 
and  Pompey,  fearing  that  the  important  cities  might 
seek  their  own  security  by  coming  separately  to 
terms,  found  it  necessary  to  risk  a  battle. 

The  scene  of  the  conflict  which  ended  the  Civil  War 
March  17  ^"^'^^  the  plain  of  Munda.  The  day  was  the 
B.  c.  45.  27th  of  March,  B.  c.  45.  Spanish  tradition 
places  Munda  on  the  Mediterranean,  near  Gibraltar. 
The  real  Munda  was  on  the  Guadalquivir,  so  near  to 
Cordova  that  the  remains  of  the  beaten  army  found 
shelter  within  its  walls  after  the  battle.  Caesar  had 
been  so  invariably  victorious  in  his  engagements  in 
the  open  field  that  the  result  might  have  been  thought 
a  foregone  conclusion.  Legendary  history  reported  in 
the  next  generation  that  the  elements  had  been  preg- 
nant with  auguries.  Images  had  sweated  ;  the  sky 
had  blazed  with  meteors ;  celestial  armies,  the  spirits 
of  the  past  and  future,  had  battled  among  the  cou- 
stellations.  The  signs  had  been  unfavorable  to  the 
Pompeians ;  the  eagles  of  their  legions  had  dropped 
the  golden  thunderbolts  from  their  talons,  spread  their 


Battle  of  Munda,  481 

wings,  and  Imd  flown  away  to  Csesar.  In  reality, 
the  eagles  had  remained  in  their  places  till  the  stand- 
ards fell  from  the  hands  of  their  dead  defenders  ; 
and  the  battle  was  one  of  the  most  desperate  in 
which  Csesar  had  ever  been  engaged.  The  num- 
bers were  nearly  equal  —  the  material  on  both  sides 
equally  good.  Pompey's  army  was  composed  of  re- 
volted Roman  soldiers.  In  arms,  in  discipline,  in 
stubborn  fierceness,  there  was  no  difference.  The 
Pompeians  had  the  advantage  of  the  situation,  the 
village  of  Munda,  with  the  hill  on  which  it  stood, 
being  in  the  centre  of  their  lines.  The  Moorish  and 
Spanish  auxiliaries,  of  whom  there  were  large  bodies 
on  either  side,  stood  apart  when  the  legions  closed ; 
they  having  no  further  interest  in  the  matter  than  in 
siding  with  the  conqueror,  Avhen  fortune  had  decided 
who  the  conqueror  was  to  be.  There  were  no  ma- 
noeuvres ;  no  scientific  evolutions.  The  Pompeians 
knew  that  there  was  no  hope  for  them  if  they  were 
defeated.  Caesar's  men,  weary  and  savage  at  the 
protraction  of  the  war,  were  determined  to  make  a 
last  end  of  it ;  and  the  two  armies  fought  hand  to 
hand  with  their  short  swords,  with  set  teeth  and 
pressed  lips,  opened  only  with  a  sharp  cry  as  an  en- 
emy fell  dead.  So  equal  was  the  struggle,  so  doubt- 
ful at  one  moment  the  issue  of  it,  that  Csesar  himself 
sprang  from  his  horse,  seized  a  standard,  and  rallied 
a  wavering  legion.  It  seemed  as  if  the  men  meant 
all  to  stand  and  kill  or  be  killed  as  long  as  daylight 
lasted.  The  ill  fate  of  Labienus  decided  the  victory. 
He  had  seen,  as  he  supposed,  some  movement  which 
alarmed  him  among  Caesar's  Moorish  auxiliaries,  and 
had  galloped  conspicuously  across  the  field  to  lead  a 
aivision  to  check  them.     A  shout  rose,  "  He  flies  — 

31 


482  Ccesar, 

he  flies  !  "  A  panic  ran  along  the  Pompeian  lines. 
They  gave  way,  and  Csesar's  legions  forced  a  road 
between  their  ranks.  One  wing  broke  off,  and  made 
for  Cordova  ;  the  rest  plunged  wildly  within  the  ditch 
and  walls  of  Munda,  the  avenging  sword  smiting 
behind  into  the  huddled  mass  of  fu2ritiv(3s. 

B.  C.  45» 

Scarcely  a  prisoner  was  taken.  Tliirty  thou- 
sand fell  on  the  field,  among  them  three  thousand  Ro- 
man knights,  the  last  remains  of  the  haughty  youths 
who  had  threatened  Caesar  with  their  swords  in  the 
Senate-house,  and  had  hacked  Clodius's  mob  in  the 
Forum.  Among  them  was  slain  Labienus  —  his  de- 
sertion of  his  general,  his  insults  and  his  cruelties  to 
his  comrades,  expiated  at  last  in  his  own  blood.  At- 
tius  Varus  was  killed  also,  who  had  been  with  Juba 
when  he  destroyed  Curio.  The  tragedy  was  being 
knitted  up  in  the  deaths  of  the  last  actors  in  it.  The 
eagles  of  the  thirteen  legions  were  all  taken.  The 
two  Pompeys  escaped  on  their  horses,  Sextus  disap- 
pearing in  the  mountains  of  Granada  or  the  Sierra 
Morena  ;  Cnseus  flying  for  Gibraltar,  where  he  hoped 
to  find  a  friendly  squadron. 

Munda  was  at  once  blockaded,  the  inclosing  wall 
—  savage  evidence  of  the  temper  of  the  conquerors  — 
being  built  of  dead  bodies  pinned  together  with 
lances,  and  on  the  top  of  it  a  fringe  of  heads  on 
swords's  points  with  the  faces  turned  towards  the 
town.  A  sally  was  attempted  at  midnight,  and 
failed.  The  desperate  wretches  then  fought  among 
themselves,  till  at  length  the  place  was  surrendered, 
and  fourteen  thousand  of  those  who  still  survived 
were  taken,  and  spared.  Their  comrades,  who  had 
made  their  way  into  Cordova,  were  less  fortunate,, 
When  the  result  of  the  battle  was  known,  the  lead* 


End  of  the  Civil  War.  488 

ing  citizen,  who  had  headed  the  revolt  against  Csesar, 
gathered  all  that  belonged  to  him  into  a  heap,  poured 
turpentine  over  it,  and,  after  a  last  feast  with  his 
famil}^,  burnt  himself,  his  house,  his  children,  and 
servants.  In  the  midst  of  the  tumult  the  walls  were 
stormed.  Cordova  was  given  up  to  plunder  and  mas- 
sacre, and  twenty-two  thousand  miserable  people  — 
most  of  them,  it  maybe  hoped,  the  fugitives  from 
Munda  —  were  killed.  The  example  sufficed.  Every 
town  opened  its  gates,  and  Spain  was  once  more  sub- 
missive. Sextus  Pompey  successfully  concealed  him- 
self. Cnseus  reached  Gibraltar,  but  to  find  that  most 
of  the  ships  which  he  looked  for  had  been  taken  by 
Caesar's  fleet.  He  tried  to  cross  to  the  African  coast, 
but  was  driven  back  by  bad  weather,  and  search 
parties  were  instantly  on  his  track.  He  had  been 
wounded  ;  he  had  sprained  his  ankle  in  his  flight. 
Strength  and  hope  were  gone.  He  was  carried  on  a 
litter  to  a  cave  on  a  mountain  side,  where  his  pur- 
suers found  him,  cut  off  his  head,  and  spared  Cicero 
from  further  anxiety. 

Thus  bloodily  ended  the  Civil  War,  which  the 
Senate  of  Rome  had  undertaken  against  Cnesar,  to 
escape  the  reforms  which  were  threatened  by  his  sec- 
ond consulship.  They  had  involuntarily  rendered 
their  country  the  best  service  which  they  were  capa- 
ble of  conferring  upon  it,  for  the  attempts  which 
Caesar  would  have  made  to  amend  a  system  too  de- 
cayed to  benefit  by  the  process  had  been  rendered 
forever  impossible  by  their  persistence.  The  free 
constitution  of  the  Republic  had  issued  at  last  in 
elections  which  were  a  mockery  of  representation,  in 
courts  of  law  which  were  an  insult  to  justice,  and  in 
the  conversion  of  the  provinces  of  the  Empire  into 


484  Ccesar. 

the  feeding-grounds  of  a  gluttonous  aristocracy.  In 
the  army  alone  the  Roman  character  and  the  Roman 
honor  survived.  In  the  Imperator,  therefore,  as  chief 
of  the  army,  the  care  of  the  provinces,  the  direction 
of  public  policy,,  the  sovereign 'authority  in  the  last 
appeal,  could  alone  thenceforward  reside.  The  Sen- 
ate might  remain  as  a  Council  of  State;  the  magis- 
trates might  bear  their  old  names,  and  administer 
their  old  functions.  But  the  authority  of  the  execu- 
tive government  lay  in  the  loyalty,  the  morality,  and 
the  patriotism  of  the  legions  to  whom  the  power  had 
been  transferred.  Fortunately  for  Rome,  the  change 
came  before  decay  had  eaten  into  the  bone,  and  the 
genius  of  the  Empire  had  still  a  refuge  from  plat- 
form oratory  and  senatorial  vrrangling  in  the  hearts 
of  her  soldiers. 

Caesar  did  not  immediately  return  to  Italy.  Af- 
fairs in  Rome  were  no  longer  pressing,  and,  after  the 
carelessness  and  blunders  of  his  lieutenants,  the  ad- 
ministration of  the  Peninsula  required  his  personal 
inspection.  From  open  revolts  in  any  part  of  the 
Roman  dominions  he  had  nothing  more  to  fear.  The 
last  card  had  been  played,  and  the  game  of  open 
resistance  was  lost  beyond  recovery.  There  might 
be.  dangers  of  another  kind  :  dangers  from  ambitious 
generals,  who  might  hope  to  take  Caesar's  place  on 
his  death  ;  or  dangers  from  constitutional  philoso- 
phers, like  Cicero,  who  had  thought  from  the  first 
that  the  Civil  War  had  been  a  mistake,  "  that  Caesar 
was-  but  mortal,  and  that  there  were  many  ways  in 
which  a  man  might  die."  A  reflection  so  frankly 
expressed,  by  so  respectable  a  person,  must  have  oc- 
curred to  many  others  as  well  as  to  Cicero ;  Caesar 
could  not  but  have  foreseen  in  what  resources  disap* 


Und  of  the  Civil  War.  485 

pointed  fanaticism  or  baffled  selfishness  might  seek 
refuge.  But  of  such  possibilities  he  was  prepared  to 
take  his  chance  ;  he  did  not  fly  from  them,  he  did 
not  seek  them ;  he  took  his  work  as  he  found  it,  and 
remained  in  Spain  through  the  summer,  imposing 
fines  and  allotting  rewards,  readjusting  the  taxation, 
and  extending  the  political  privileges  of  the  Roman 
colonies.  It  was  not  till  late  in  the  autumn  that  he 
again  turned  his  face  towards  Rome. 


CHAPTER  XXVI. 

C^SAB  came  back   to   Rome  to  resume  the  sus- 
pended work  of  practical  reform.     His  first 

B  C.  46. 

care  was  to  remove  the  fears  which  the  final 
spasm  of  rebellion  had  again  provoked.  He  had  al- 
ready granted  an  amnesty.  But  the  Optimates  were 
conscious  that  they  had  desired  and  hoped  that  the 
Pompeys  might  be  victorious  in  Spain.  Caesar  in- 
vited the  surviving  leaders  of  the  party  to  sue  for 
pardon  on  not  unbecoming  conditions.  Hitherto  they 
had  kept  no  faith  with  him,  and  on  the  first  show  of 
opportunity  had  relapsed  into  defiance.  His  forbear- 
ance had  been  attributed  to  want  of  power  rather 
than  of  will  to  punish  ;  when  they  saw  him  again 
triumphant,  they  assumed  that  the  representative  of 
the  Marian  principles  would  show  at  last  the  colors 
of  his  uncle,  and  that  Rome  would  again  run  with 
blood.  He  knew  them  all.  He  knew  that  they  hated 
bim,  and  would  continue  to  hate  him  ;  but  he  supposed 
that  they  had  recognized  the  hopelessness  and  useless- 
ness  of  further  conspiracy.  By  destroying  him  they 
would  fall  only  under  the  rod  of  less  scrupulous  con- 
querors ;  arid  therefore  he  was  content  that  they 
should  ask  to  be  forgiven.  To  show  further  that  the 
past  was  really  to  be  forgotten,  he  drew  no  distinc- 
tion between  his  enemies  and  his  friends,  and  he 
recommended  impartially  for  office  those  whose  rank 
or  services  to  the  State  entitled  them  to  look  for  pro- 
motion.    Thus  he  pardoned  and  advanced  Caius  Cas- 


General  Amnesty.  487 

Bius,  who  would  have  killed  him  in  Cilicia.^  But 
Cassius  had  saved  Syria  from  being  overrun  by  the 
Parthians  after  the  death  of  Crassus ;  and  the  service 
to  the  State  outweighed  the  injury  to  himself.  So 
he  pardoned  and  advanced  Marcus  Brutus,  his  friend 
Servilia's  son,  who  had  fought  against  him  at  Pharsa- 
lia,  and  had  been  saved  from  death  there  by  his  spe- 
cial 01  ders.  So  he  pardoned  and  protected  Cicero ;  so 
Marcus  Marcellus,  who,  as  consul,  had  moved  that 
he  should  be  recalled  from  his  government,  and  had 
flogged  the  citizen  of  Como,  in  scorn  of  the  privileges 
which  Caesar  had  granted  to  the  colony.  So  he  par- 
doned also  Quintus  Ligarius,^  who  had  betrayed  his 
confidence  in  Africa  ;  so  a  hundred  others,  who  now 
submitted,  accepted  his  favors,  and  bound  themselves 
to  plot  against  him  no  more.  To  the  widows  and 
children  of  those  who  had  fallen  in  the  war  he  restored 
the  estates  and  honors  of  their  families.  Finally,  as 
some  were  still  sullen,  and  refused  to  sue  for  a  for- 
giveness which  might  imply  an  acknowledgment  of 
guilt,  he  renewed  the  general  amnesty  of  the  previous 
year ;  and,  as  a  last  evidence  that  his  victory  was  not 
the  triumph  of  democracy,  but  the  consolidation  of  a 
united  Empire,  he  restored  the  statues  of  Sylla  and 
Pompey,  which  had  been  thrown  down  in  the  revo- 
lution, and  again  dedicated  them  with  a  public  cere- 
monial. 

Having   thus   proved  that,  so  far  as  he  was  con- 
cerned, he  nourished  no  resentment  against  the  per- 

1  Apparently  when  Caesar  touched  there  on  his  way  to  Egypt,  after 
Pharsalia.  Cicero  says  {Philippic  ii.  11) :  "  Quid  ?  C.  Cassius  ....  qui 
ctiam  sine  his  clarissimis  viris,  hanc  rem  in  Cilicia  ad  ostium  fluminis 
Cydni  confecisset,  si  ille  ad  earn  ripam  quam  coristituerat,  non  ad  contra- 
riara,  navi  appulisset." 

2  To  be  distinguished  from  Publius  Ligar'us,  who  had  been  put  to  dratb 
before  Thapsus. 


488  Omar, 

sons  of  the  Optimates,  or  against  their  pinciples,  so 
far  as  they  were  consistent  with  the  future  welfare  of 
the  Roman  State,  Caesar  set  himself  again  to  the  re- 
organization of  the  administration.  Unfortunately, 
each  step  that  he  took  was  a  fresh  crime  in  the  eyes 
of  men  whose  pleasant  monopoly  of  power  he  had 
overthrown.  But  this  was  a  necessity  of  the  revolu- 
tion. They  had  fought  for  their  supremacy,  and  had 
lost  the  day. 

He  increased  the  number  of  the  Senate  to  nine 
hundred,  filling  its  ranks  from  eminent  provincials ; 
introducing  even  barbarian  Gauls,  and,  still  worse, 
libertini,  the  sons  of  liberated  slaves,  who  had  risen 
to  distinction  by  their  own  merit.  The  new  members 
came  in  slowly,  and  it  is  needless  to  say  were  unwill- 
ingly received  ;  a  private  handbill  was  sent  round, 
recommending  the  coldest  of  greetings  to  them.^ 

The  inferior  magistrates  were  now  responsible  to 
himseK  as  Dictator.  He  added  to  their  numbers  also, 
and,  to  check  the  mischiefs  of  the  annual  elections, 
he  ordered  that  they  should  be  chosen  for  three  years. 
He  cut  short  the  corn  grants,  which  nursed  the  city 
mob  in  idleness  ;  and  from  among  the  impoverished 
citizens  he  furnished  out  masses  of  colonists  to  repair 
the  decay  of  ancient  cities.  Corinth  rose  from  its 
ashes  under  Caesar's  care.  Eighty  thousand  Italians 
were  settled  down  on  the  site  of  Curthage.  As  in- 
spector of  morals,  Caesar  inherited  iii  an  invigorated 
form  the  power  of  the  censors.  Senators  and  officials 
who  had  discredited  themselves  by  dishonesty  were 

1  The  Gauls  were  especially  obnoxious,  and  epigrams  were  circulated  to 
Insult  them;  — 

"  Gallos  Caesar  in  triumphum  ducit,  idem  in  Curiam. 
Galli  braccas  deposuerunt,  latum  clavum  sumpserunt-" 

SUETOMCS,  Vita  Julii  Casaris,  80 


Sumptuary  Regulations,  489 

ruthlessly  degraded.  His  own  private  habits  and  the 
habits  of  his  household  were  models  of  frugality. 
He  made  an  effort,  in  which  A,ugustus  afterwards 
imitated  him,  to  check  the  luxury  which  was  eating 
into  the  Roman  character.  He  forbade  the  idle  young 
patricians  to  be  carried  about  by  slaves  in  litters. 
The  markets  of  the  world  had  been  ransacked  to  pro- 
vide dainties  for  these  gentlemen.  He  appointed  in- 
spectors to  survey  the  dealers'  stalls,  and  occasionally 
prohibited  dishes  were  carried  off  from  the  dinner- 
table  under  the  eyes  of  the  disappointed  guests.^ 
Enemies  enough  Cassar  made  by  these  measures  ;  but 
it  could  not  be  said  of  him  that  he  allowed  indul- 
gences to  himself  which  he  interdicted  to  others.  His 
domestic  economy  was  strict  and  simple,  the  accounts 
being  kept  to  a  sesterce.  His  frugality  was  hospit- 
able. He  had  two  tables  always,  one  for  his  civilian 
friends,  another  for  his  officers,  who  dined  in  uniform, 
The  food  was  plain,  but  the  best  of  its  kind ;  and  he 
was  not  to  be  played  with  in  such  matters.  An  un- 
lucky baker  who  supplied  his  guests  with  bread  of 
worse  quality  than  he  furnished  for  himself  was  put 
in  chains.  Against  moral  offences  he  was  still  more 
Bevere.  He,  the  supposed  example  of  licentiousness 
with  women,  executed  his  favorite  freedman  for  adul- 
tery with  a  Roman  lady.  A  senator  had  married  a 
woman  two  days  after  her  divorce  from  her  first  hus- 
band ;  Csesar  pronounced  the  marriage  void. 

Law  reforms  went  on.  Cassar  appointed  a  commis- 
sion to  examine  the  huge  mass  of  precedents,  reduce 
them  to  principles,  and  form  a  Digest.  He  called  in 
Marcus  Varro's  help  to  form  libraries  in  the  great 
towns.     He  encouraged  physicians  and  men  of  science 

1  Suetonius. 


490  Ccesar. 

to  settle  in  Rome,  by  offering  them  the  freedom  of 
the  city.  To  maintain  the  free  population  of  Italy, 
he  required  the  planters  and  farmers  to  employ  a 
fixed  proportion  of  free  laborers  on  their  estates.  He 
put  an  end  to  the  pleasant  tours  of  senators  at  the 
expense  of  the  provinces ;  their  proper  place  was 
Ital}^,  and  he  allowed  them  to  go  abroad  only  when 
they  were  in  office  or  in  the  service  of  the  governors. 
He  formed  large  engineering  plans,  a  plan  to  drain 
the  Pontine  marshes  and  the  Fucine  lake,  a  plan  to 
form  a  new  channel  for  the  Tiber,  another  to  improve 
the  roads,  another  to  cut  the  Isthmus  of  Corinth. 
These  were  his  employments  during  the  few  months  of 
life  which  were  left  to  him  after  the  close  of  the  war. 
His  health  was  growinsr  visibly  weaker,  but 
ms  superhuman  energy  remamed  unim- 
paired. He  was  even  meditating  and  was  making 
preparation  for  a  last  campaign.  The  authority  of 
Rome  on  the  Eastern  frontier  had  not  recovered  from 
the  effects  of  the  destruction  of  the  army  of  Crassus. 
The  Parthians  were  insolent  and  aggressive.  Caesar 
had  determined  to  go  in  person  to  bring  them  to  their 
senses  as  soon  as  he  could  leave  Rome.  Partly,  it 
was  said  that  he  felt  his  life  would  be  safer  with  the 
troops  ;  partly,  he  desired  to  leave  the  administration 
free  from  his  overpowering  presence,  that  it  might 
learn  to  go  alone;  partly  and  chiefly,  he  wished  to 
spend  such  time  as  might  remain  to  him  where  he 
could  do  most  service  to  his  country.  But  he  was 
growing  weary  of  the  thankless  burden.  He  was 
heard  often  to  say  that  he  had  lived  long  enough. 
Men  of  high  nature  do  not  find  the  task  of  governing 
their  fellow-creatures  particularly  delightful. 

The  Senate  meanwhile  was  occupied  in  showing  tlie 


Honors  heaped  on  Ccesar,  491 

sincerity  of  their  conversion  by  inventing  honors  for 
their  new  master,  and  smothering  him  with  distinc- 
tions since  they  had  failed  to  defeat  him  in  the  field. 
Few  recruits  had  yet  joined  them,  and  they  were  still 
substantially  the  old  body.  They  voted  Caesar  the 
name  of  Liberator!  They  struck  medals  for  him,  in 
which  he  was  described  as  Pater  Patriae,  an  epithet 
which  Cicero  had  once  with  quickened  pulse  heard 
given  to  himself  by  Pompey.  "  Imperator  "  had  been 
a  title  conferred  hitherto  by  soldiers  in  the  field  on  a 
successful  general.  It  was  now  granted  to  Csesar  in 
a  special  sense,  and  was  made  hereditary  in  his  family, 
with  the  command-in-chief  of  the  army  for  his  life. 
The  Senate  gave  him  also  the  charge  of  the  treasury. 
They  made  him  consul  for  ten  years.  Statues  were 
to  be  erected  to  him  in  the  temples,  on  the  Rostra, 
and  in  the  Capitol,  where  he  was  to  stand  as  an  eighth 
among  the  seven  Kings  of  Rome.  In  the  excess  of 
their  adoration,  they  desired  even  to  place  his  image 
in  the  Temple  of  Quirinus  himself,  with  an  inscription 
\>o  him  as  ©eos  avU-qTO's^  the  invincible  God.  Golden 
chairs,  gilt  chariots,  triumphal  robes  were  piled  one 
upon  another  with  laurelled  fasces  and  laurelled 
wreaths.  His  birthday  was  made  a  perpetual  holi- 
day, and  the  month  Quinctilis  ^  was  renamed,  in 
honor  of  him,  July.  A  temple  to  Concord  was  to  be 
erected  in  commemoration  of  his  clemency.  His  per- 
son was  declared  sacred,  and  to  injure  him  by  word  or 
vleed  was  to  be  counted  sacrilege.  The  Fortune  of 
Caesar  was  introduced  into  the  constitutional  oath,  and 
the  Senate  took  a  solemn  pledge  to  maintain  his  acts 
inviolate.  Finally,  they  arrived  at  a  conclusion  that 
he  was  not  a  man  at  all ;  no  longer  Cains  Julius,  but 

1  The  fifth,  dating  the  beginning  of  the  year,  in  the  old  style,  from  March. 


492  Caesar. 

Divns  Julius,  a  God  or  the  Son  of  God.  A  temple 
was  to  be  built  to  Csesar  as  another  Quirinus,  and 
Antony  was  to  be  his  priest. 

Ca3sar  knew  the  meaning  of  all  this.  He  must  ac- 
cept their  flattery  and  become  ridiculous,  or  he  must 
appear  to  treat  with  contumely  the  Senate  which 
offered  it.  The  sinister  purpose  started  occasionally 
into  sight.  One  obsequious  senator  proposed  that 
every  woman  in  Rome  should  be  at  his  disposition, 
and  filthy  libels  against  him  were  set  floating  under 
the  surface.  The  object,  he  perfectly  understood, 
"  was  to  draw  him  into  a  position  more  and  more  in- 
vidious, that  he  might  the  sooner  perish."  ^  The 
praise  and  the  slander  of  such  men  were  alike  in- 
different to  him.  So  far  as  he  was  concerned,  they 
might  call  him  what  they  pleased  ;  God  in  public,  and 
devil  in  their  epigrams,  if  it  so  seemed  good  to  them. 
It  was  difiicult  for  him  to  know  precisely  how  to  act, 
but  he  declined  his  divine  honors ;  and  he  declined 
the  ten  years'  consulship.  Though  he  was  sole  consul 
for  the  year,  he  took  a  colleague,  and  when  his  col- 
league died  on  the  last  day  of  oflBce,  he  named  an- 
other, that  the  customary  forms  might  be  observed; 
Let  him  do  what  he  would,  malice  still  misconstrued 
him.  Cicero,  the  most  prominent  now  of  his  senato- 
rial flatterers,  was  the  sharpest  with  his  satire  behind 
the  scenes.  "  Csesar,"  he  said,  "  had  given  them  so 
active  a  consul,  that  there  was  no  sleeping  under 
him."  2 

Csesar  was  more  and  more  weary  of  it.  He  knew 
that  the  Senate  hated  him ;  he  knew  that  they  would 
kill  him,  if  they  could.     All  these  men  whose  lips 

-  Dion  Cassius. 

2  The  second  consul  who  had  been  put  in  held  office  but  for  a  few  hours. 


Conspiracies  forming.  493 

were  running  over  with  adulation,  were  longing  to 
drive  their  daggers  into  him.  He  was  willing  to  live, 
if  they  would  let  him  live ;  but,  for  himself,  he  had 
ceased  to  care  about  it.  He  disdained  to  take  precau- 
tions against  assassination.  On  his  first  return  from 
Spain,  he  had  been  attended  by  a  guard ;  but  he  dis- 
missed it  in  spite  of  the  remonstrances  of  his  friends, 
and  went  dail}^  into  the  Senate-house  alone  and  un- 
armed. He  spoke  often  of  his  danger  with  entire 
openness ;  but  he  seemed  to  think  that  he  had  some 
security  in  the  certainty  that  if  he  was  murdered  the 
Civil  War  would  break  out  again,  as  if  personal  ha- 
tred was  ever  checked  by  fear  of  consequences.  Ifc 
was  something  to  feel  that  he  had  not  Hved  in  vain. 
The  Gauls  were  settling  into  peaceful  habits.  The 
soil  of  Gaul  was  now  as  well  cultivated  as  Ital}^ 
Barges  loaded  with  merchandise  were  passing  freely 
along  the  Rhone  and  the  Sa6ne,  the  Loire,  the  Mo- 
selle, and  the  Rhine.^  The  best  of  the  chiefs  were 
made  senators  of  Rome,  and  the  people  were  happy 
and  contented.  What  he  had  done  for  Gaul,  he 
might,  if  he  lived,  do  for  Spain,  and  Africa,  and  the 
East.  But  it  was  the  concern  of  others  more  than  of 
himself.  "  Better,"  he  said,  "  to  die  at  once  than  live 
in  perpetual  dread  of  treason." 

But  Caesar  was  aware  that  conspiracies  were  being 
formed  against  him;  and  that  he  spoke 
Treel}^  of  his  danger,  appears  from  a  speech 
delivered  in  the  middle  of  the  winter  by  Cicero  in 
Caesar's  presence.  It  has  been  seen  that  Cicero  had 
lately  spoken  of  Caesar's  continuance  in  life  as  a  dis- 
grace to  the  State.  It  has  been  seen,  also,  that  he 
bad  long   thought    of   assassination   as  the   readiest 

1  Dion  Cassias. 


i94  Ccesar. 

means  of  ending  it.  He  asserted  afterwards  that  he 
had  not  been  consulted  when  the  murder  was  actually 
accomplished;  but  the  perpetrators  were  assured  of 
his  approbation,  and  when  Caesar  was  killed  he  de- 
liberately claimed  for  himself  a  share  of  the  guilt,  if 
guilt  thero  could  be  in  what  he  regarded  as  the  most 
glorious  achievement  in  human  history .^  It  may  be 
iissumed,  therefore,  that  Cicero's  views  upon  the  sub- 
ject had  remained  unchanged  since  the  beginning  of 
the  Civil  War,  and  that  his  sentiments  were  no  secret 
among  his  intimate  friends. 

Cicero  is  the  second  great  figure  in  the  history  of 
the  time.  He  has  obtained  the  immortality  which  he 
so  much  desired,  and  we  are,  therefore,  entitled  and 
obliged  to  scrutinize  his  conduct  with  a  nieeness  which 
would  be  ungracious  and  unnecessary  in  the  case  of  a 
less  distinguished  man.  After  Pharsalia  he  had  con- 
cluded that  the  continuance  of  the  war  would  be  un- 
justifiable. He  had  put  himself  in  communication 
with  Antony  and  Caesar's  friend  and  secretary  Oppius, 
and  at  their  advice  he  went  from  Greece  to  Brindisi, 
to  remain  there  till  Caesar's  pleasure  should  be  known. 
He  was  very  miserable.  He  had  joined  Pompey  with 
confessed  reluctance,  and  family  quarrels  had  followed 
on  Pompey's  defeat.  His  brother  Quintus,  whom  he 
had  drawn  away  from  Caesar,  regretted  having  taken 
his  advice.  His  sons  and  nephews  were  equally 
querulous  and  dissatisfied  ;  and  for  himself,  he  dared 
not  appear  in  the  streets  of  Brindisi,  lest  Caesar's 
soldiers  should  insult  or  injure  him.  Antony,  how- 
ever, encouraged  him  to  hope.     He  assured  him  that 

1  See  the  2d  Philippic,  passim.  In  a  letter  to  Decimus  Brutus,  he  says: 
*  Quare  hortatione  tu  quidem  non  eges,  si  ne  ilia  quidem  in  re,  quae  a  te 
gesta  est  post  hominum  memoriam  maxima,  hortatorem  desiderasti."  Ad 
Fam,  xi.  5. 


Speculations  of  Cicero.  495 

Ca)sar  was  well  disposed  to  him,  and  would  not  only 
pardon  him,  but  would  show  him  every  possible  favor,^ 
and  with  these  expectations  he  contiived  for  a  while 
to  comfort  himself.  He  had  regarded  the  struggle  as 
over,  and  Caesar's  side  as  completely  victorious.  But 
gradually  the  scene  seemed  to  change.  Csesar  was 
long  in  returning.  The  Optimates  rallied  in  Africa, 
and  there  was  again  a  chance  that  they  might  win 
after  all.  His  first  thought  was  always  for  himself. 
If  the  constitution  survived  under  Gsesar,  as  he  was 
inclined  to  think  that  in  some  shape  it  would,  he  had 
expected  that  a  place  would  be  found  in  it  for  him.^ 
But  how  if  Caesar  himself  should  not  survive  ?  ^  How 
if  he  should  be  killed  in  Alexandria  ?  How  if  he 
should  be  defeated  by  Metellus  Scipio?  He  described 
himself  as  excruciated  with  anxiety.^  Through  the 
year  which  followed  he  wavered  from  day  to  day  as 
the  prospect  varied,  now  cursing  his  folly  for  having 
followed  the  Senate  to  Greece,  now  for  having  de- 
serted them,  blaming  himself  at  one  time  for  his  in- 
decision, at  another  for  having  committed  himself  to 
either  side.* 

Gradually  his  alarms  subsided.  The  Senate's 
party  was  finally  overthrown.  Caesar  wrote  to  him 
affectionately,  and  allowed  him  to  retain  his  title  as 
Imperator.  When  it  appeared  that  he  had  nothing 
personally  to  fear,  he  recovered  his  spirits,  and  he  re- 
covered along  with  them  a  hope  that  the  constitution 
might  be  restored,  after  all,  by  other  means  than  war. 
"  Caesar  could  not  live  forever,  and  there  were  many 
ways  in  which  a  man  might  die." 

1  To  Atticus,  xi.  5-6.  ^  Ad  Ccelium,  Ad  Fam.  ii.  16. 

8  To  Atticus,  xi.  7.- 

*  <See  To  Atticus,  xi.  7-9  :  To  Terentia,  Ad  Fam.  xiv.  12. 


496  Ccesar. 

Caesar  had  dined  with  him  in  the  country,  on  hia 
way  home  from  Spain.  He  had  been  as  kind  as  Cic- 
ero could  wish,  but  had  avoided  politics.  When  Cae- 
sar went  on  to  Rome,  Cicero  followed  him,  resumed 
his  place  in  the  Senate,  which  was  then  in  the  full 
fervor  of  its  affected  adulation,  and  took  an  early  op- 
portunity of  speaking.  Marcus  Marcellus  had  been  in 
exile  since  Pharsalia.  The  Senate  had  interceded  for 
his  pardon,  and  Caesar  had  granted  it,  and  granted  it 
with  a  completeiress  which  exceeded  expectation.  Cic- 
ero rose  to  thank  him  in  his  presence,  in  terms  which 
most  certainly  did  not  express  his  real  feelings,  what- 
ever may  have  been  the  purpose  which  they  concealed. 

"  He  had  long  been  silent,*'  he  said,  "  not  from 
fear,  but  from  grief  and  diffidence.  The  time  for 
silence  was  past.  Thenceforward  he  intended  to 
speak  his  thoughts  freely  in  his  ancient  manner. 
Such  kindness,  such  unheard  of  generosity,  such 
moderation  in  power,  such  incredible  and  almost  god- 
like wisdom,  he  felt'  himself  unable  to  pass  over 
without  giving  expression  to  his  emotions."  ^  No 
flow  of  genius,  no  faculty  of  speech  or  writing,  could 
adequately  describe  Caesar's  actions,  yet  on  that  day 
he  had  yet  achieved  a  greater  glory.  Often  had 
Cicero  thought,  and  often  had  said  to  others,  that  no 
king  or  general  had  ever  performed  such  exploits  as 
Csesar.  In  war,  however,  officers,  soldiers,  allies,  cir- 
cumstances, fortune,  claimed  a  share  in  the  result ; 
and  there  were  victories  greater  than  could  be  won 
on  the  battlefield,  where  the  honor  was  undivided. 

1  "  Tantam  enim  mansuetudinem,  tam  inusitatam  inauditamque  cle- 
mealiam,  tantnm  in  summa  potestate  rerum  omnium  modum,  tam  denique 
incredibilem  sapienfiam  ac  paene  divinam  tacitus  nullo  modo  praeterire 
possum."  —  Pro  Marco  Marcello,  1. 


Speech  of  Cicero.  497 

"  To  have  conquered  yourself,"  he  said,  addressing 
Caesar  directly,  "  to  have  restrained  your  resentment, 
not  onl}^  to  have  restored  a  distinguished  opponent 
to  his  civil  rights,  but  to  have  given  him  more  than 
he  had  lost,  is  a  deed  which  rises  you  above  human- 
ity, and  makes  you  most  like  to  God.  Your  wars 
will  be  spoken  of  to  the  end  of  time  in  all  lands  and 
tongues,  but  in  tales  of  battles  we  are  deafened  by 
the  shoutings  and  the  blare  of  trumpets.  Justice, 
mercy,  moderation,  wisdom,  we  admire  even  in  fic- 
tion, or  in  persons  whom  we  have  never  seen  ;  how 
much  more  must  we  admire  them  in  you,  who  are 
present  here  before  us,  and  in  whose  face  we  read  a 
purpose  to  restore  us  to  such  remnants  of  our  liberty 
as  have  survived  the  war !  How  can  we  praise, 
how  can  we  love  you  sufficiently  ?  B}^  the  gods,  the 
very  walls  of  this  house  are  eloquent  with  gratitude. 
....  No  conqueror  in  a  civil  war  was  ever  so  mild 
as  you  have  been.  To-day  you  have  surpassed  your- 
self. You  have  overcome  victory  in  giving  back  the 
spoils  to  the  conquered.  By  the  laws  of  war  we  were 
under  your  feet,  to  be  destroyed  if  you  so  willed. 
We  live  by  your  goodness.  ....  Observe,  conscript 
fathers,  how  comprehensive  is  Caesar's  sentence.  We 
were  in  arms  against  him,  how, impelled  I  know  not. 
He  cannot  acquit  us  of  mistake,  but  he  holds  us  in- 
nocent of  crime,  for  he  has  given  us  back  Marcellus, 
at  your  entreaty.  Me,  of  his  own  free  will,  he  has  re- 
stored to  myself  and  to  my  country,  He  has  brought 
back  the  most  illustrious  survivors  of  the  war.  You 
see  them  gathered  here  in  this  full  assembly.  He 
has  not  regarded  them  as  enemies.  He  has  con- 
cluded that  you  entered   into  the  conflict  with  him 

82 


498  Ccesar. 

rather  in  ignorance   and  unfounded  fear  than  from 
any  motives  of  ambition  or  hostility. 

"  For  me,  I  was  always  for  peace.  Caesar  was  for 
peace,  so  was  Marcellus.  There  were  violent  men 
among  you,  whose  success  Marcellus  dreaded.  Each 
party  had  a  cause.  I  will  not  compare  them.  I  will 
compare  rather  the  victory  of  the  one  with  the  pos- 
sible victory  of  the  other.  Caesar's  wars  ended  with 
the  last  battle.  The  sword  is  now  sheathed.  Those 
whom  we  have  lost  fell  in  the  fury  of  the  fight,  not 
one  by  the  resentment  of  the  conqueror.  Csesar,  if 
he  could,  would  bring  back  to  life  many  who  lie 
dead.  For  the  others,  we  all  feared  what  they  might 
do  if  the  day  had  been  theirs.  They  not  only  threat- 
ened those  that  were  in  arms  against  them,  but  those 
who  sat  quietly  at  home." 

Cicero  then  said  that  he  had  heard  a  fear  of  assas- 
sination expressed  by  Caesar.  By  whom,  he  asked, 
could  such  an  attempt  be  made  ?  Not  by  those 
whom  he  had  forgiven,  for  none  were  more  attached 
to  him.  Not  by  his  comrades,  for  they  could  not 
be  so  mad  as  to  conspire  against  the  general  to  whom 
they  owed  all  that  they  possessed.  Not  by  his  ene- 
mies, for  he  had  no  enemies.  Those  who  had  been 
his  enemies  were  either  dead  through  their  own  ob- 
stinacy, or  were  alive  through  his  generosity.  It 
was  possible,  however,  he  admitted,  that  there  might 
be  some  such  danger. 

*'Be  you,  therefore,"  he  said,  again  speaking  to 
Caesar,  "  be  you  watchful,  and  let  us  be  diligent. 
Who  is  so  careless  of  his  own  and  the  common  wel- 
fare as  to  be  ignorant  that  on  your  preservation  his 


Speech  of  Cicero,      '  499 

own  depends,  and  that  all  our  lives  are  bound  up  in 
j^ours  ?  I,  as  in  duty  bound,  think  of  you  by  night 
and  day  ;  I  ponder  over  the  accidents  of  humanity, 
the  uncertainty  of  health,  the  fraility  of  our  common 
nature,  and  I  grieve  to  think  that  the  Commonwealth 
which  ought  to  be  immortal  should  hang  on  the 
breath  of  a  single  man.  If  to  these  perils  be  added 
a  nefarious  conspiracy,  to  what  god  can  we  turn  for 
help?  War  has  laid  prostrate  our  institutions,  you 
alone  can  restore  them.  The  courts  of  justice  need 
to  be  reconstituted,  credit  to  be  recovered,  license  to 
be  repressed,  the  thinned  ranks  of  the  citizens  to  be 
repaired.  The  bonds  of  society  are  relaxed.  In  such 
a  war,  and  with  such  a  temper  in  men's  hearts,  the 
State  must  have  lost  many  of  its  greatest  ornaments, 
be  the  event  what  it  would.  These  wounds  need 
healing,  and  you  alone  can  heal  them.  With  sor- 
row I  have  heard  you  say  that  you  have  lived  long 
enough.  For  nature  it  may  be  that  you  have,  and 
perhaps  for  glory.  But  for  your  country  you  have 
not.  Put  away,  I  beseech  you,  this  contempt  of 
death.  Be  not  wise  at  our  expense.  You  repeat 
often,  I  am  told,  that  you  do  not  wish  for  longer  life. 
I  believe  you  mean  it ;  nor  should  I  blame  you,  if 
you  had  only  to  think  of  yourself.  But  by  your  ac- 
tions you  have  involved  the  welfare  of  each  citizen 
and  of  the  whole  Commonwealth  in  your  own.  Your 
work  is  unfinished :  the  foundations  are  hardly  laid, 
and  is  it  for  you  to  be  measuring  calmly  your  term 
of  days  by  your  desires  ?  ....  If,  Caesar,  the  result 
of  your  immortal  deeds  is  to  be  no  more  than  this, 
that,  after  defeating  your  enemies,  you  are  to  leave 
the  State  in  the  condition  in  which  it  now  stands, 
your  splendid  qualities  will  be  more  admired  than 


500  Ccesar. 

honored.  It  remains  for  you  to  rebuild  the  constitu- 
tion. Live  till  this  is  done.  Live  till  you  see  your 
country  tranquil,  and  at  peace.  Then,  when  your 
last  debt  is  paid,  when  you  have  filled  the  measure  of 
your  existence  to  overflowing,  then  say,  if  you  will, 
that  you  have  had  enough  of  life.  Your  life  is  not 
the  life  which  is  bounded  by  the  tinion  of  your  soul 
and  body ;  your  life  is  that  which  shall  continue  fresh 
in  the  memory  of  ages  to  come,  which  posterity  will 
cherish,  and  eternity  itself  keep  guard  over.  Much 
has  been  done  which  men  will  admire :  much  remains 
to  be  done,  which  they  can  praise.  They  will  read 
"with  wonder  of  the  empires  and  provinces,  of  the 
Rhine,  the  ocean,  and  the  Nile,  of  battles  without 
number,  of  amazing  victories,  of  countless  monuments 
and  triumphs ;  but  unless  this  Commonwealth  be 
wisely  reestablished  in  institutions  by  you  bestowed 
upon  us,  your  name  will  travel  widely  over  the  world, 
but  will  have  no  stable  habitation ;  and  those  who 
come  after  us  will  dispute  about  you  as  we  have  dis- 
puted. Some  will  extol  you  to  the  skies,  others  will 
find  something  wanting,  and  the  most  important  ele- 
ment of  all.  Remember  the  tribunal  before  which 
you  will  hereafter  stand.  The  ages  that  are  to  be 
will  try  you,  with  minds,  it  may  be,  less  prejudiced 
than  ours,  uninfluenced  either  by  desire  to  please  you 
or  by  envy  of  your  greatness. 

"  Our  dissensions  have  been  crushed  by  the  arms, 
and  extinguished  by  the  lenity,  of  the  conqueror. 
Let  all  of  us,  not  the  wise  only,  but  every  citizen  who 
has  ordinary  sense,  be  guided  by  a  single  desire.  Sal- 
vation there  can  be  none  for  us,  Cassar,  unless  you  are 
preserved.  Therefore,  we  exhort  you,  we  beseech 
you  to  watch  over  your  own   safety.     You   believe 


Speech  of  Cicero,  501 

that  you  are  threatened  by  a  secret  peril.  From  my 
own  heart  I  say,  and  I  speak  for  others  as  well  as 
mj^self,  we  will  stand  as  sentries  over  your  safety, 
and  we  will  interpose  our  own  bodies  between  you 
and  any  danger  which  may  menace  you."  ^ 

Such,  in  compressed  form,  for  necessary  brevity, 
but  deserving  to  be  studied  in  its  own  brilliant  lan- 
guage, was  the  speech  delivered  by  Cicero  in  the  Sen- 
ate in  Caesar's  presence,  within  a  few  weeks  of  his 
murder.  The  authenticity  of  it  has  been  questioned, 
but  without  result  beyond  creating  a  doubt  whether 
it  was  edited  and  corrected,  according  to  his  usual 
habit,  by  Cicero  himself.  The  external  evidence  of 
genuineness  is  as  good  as  for  any  of  his  other  Ora- 
tions, and  the  Senate  possessed  no  other  speaker 
known  to  us,  to  whom,  with  any  probabilit}^,  so  splen- 
did an  illustration  of  Roman  eloquence  could  be  as- 
signed. 

Now,  therefore,  let  us  turn  to  the  Second  Philippic 
delivered  in  the  following  summer  when  the  deed 
had  been  accomplished,  which  Cicero  professed  to 
hold  in  so  much  abhorrence.  Then,  fiercely  chal- 
lenging for  himself  a  share  in  the  glory  of  tyranni- 
cide, he  exclaimed  :  — 

"  What  difference  is  there  between  advice  before- 
hand and  approbation  afterwards?  What  does  it 
matter  whether  I  wished  it  to  be  done,  or  rejoiced 
that  it  was  done?  Is  there  a  man,  save  Antony 
and  those  who  were  glad  to  have  Caesar  reign  over 
us,  that  did  not  wish  him  to  be  killed,  or  that  disap- 
proved when  he  was  killed  ?     All  were  in  fault,  for 

1  Pro  Marco  Marcello,  abridged. 


502  Ccesar, 

all  the  Boni  joined  in  killing  him,  so  far  as  lay  in 
them.  Some  were  not  consulted,  some  wanted  cour- 
age, si3me  opportunity.     All  were  willing."  ^ 

Expressions  so  vehemently  opposite  compel  us  to 
compare  them.  Was  it  that  Cicero  was  so  carried 
away  by  the  stream  of  his  oratory,  that  he  spoke  like 
an  actor,  under  artificial  emotion  which  the  occasion 
called  for  ?  Was  it  that  he  was  deliberately  trying 
to  persuade  Caesar  that  from  the  Senate  he  had  noth- 
ing to  fear,  and  so  to  put  him  off  his  guard  ?  If,  as 
he  declared,  he  himself  and  the  Boni^  who  were  list- 
ening to  him,  desired  so  unanimously  to  see  Caesar 
killed,  how  else  can  his  language  be  interpreted  ? 
Cicero  stands  before  the  tribunal  of  posterity,  to 
which  he  was  so  fond  of  appealing.  In  him,  too, 
while  ''  there  is  much  to  admire,"  "  something  may 
be  found  wanting." 

Meanwhile  the  Senate  went  its  way,  still  inventing 
fresh  titles  and  conferring  fresh  powers.  Caesar  said 
that  these  vain  distinctions  needed  limitation,  rather 
than  increase  ;  but  the  flattery  had  a  purpose  in  it, 
and  would  not  be  checked. 

One  day  a  deputation  waited  on  him  with  the 
proffer  of  some  "  new  marvel."  ^  He  was  sitting  in 
front  of  the  Temple  of  Venus  Genetrix,  and  when 
the  senators  approached  he  neglected  to  rise  to  re- 

1  "Non  intelligis,  si  id  quod  me  arguis  voluisse  interfici  Caesarem  crimen 
sit,  etiam  laetatum  esse  morte  Csesaris  crimen  esse  ?  Quid  enim  interest 
inter  suasorem  facti  et  approbatorem  ?  Aut  quid  refert  utrum  voluerim 
fieri  an  gaudeam  factum  ?  Ecquis  est  igitur  te  excepto  et  iis  qui  ilium 
regnare  gaudebant,  qui  illud  aut  fieri  noluerit,  aut  factum  improbarit? 
Omnes  enim  in  culpji.  Etenim  omnes  boni  quantum  in  ipsis  fuit  Caesarem 
occiderunt.  Aliis  consilium,  aliis  animus,  aliis  occasio  defuit.  Vbluritag 
Vi^raim:^ —'id Philippic,  \% 

3  Dion  Cassias. 


The  Kingship.  -  503 

ceive  them.  Some  said  that  he  was  moving,  but  that 
Cornelius  Balbus  pulled  him  down.  Others  said 
that  he  was  unwell.  Pontius  Aquila,  a  tribune,  had 
shortly  before  refused  to  rise  to  Caesar.  The  senators 
thought  he  meant  to  read  them  a  lesson  in  return. 
He  intended  to  be  king,  it  seemed ;  the  constitution 
was  gone,  another  Tarquin  was  about  to  seize  the 
throne  of  Republican  Rome. 

Caesar  was  king  in  fact,  and  to.  recognize  facts  is 
more  sakitary  than  to  ignore  them.  An  acknowledg- 
ment of  Csesar  as  king  might  have  made  the  problem 
of  reorganization  easier  than  it  proved.  The  army 
had  thought  of  it.  He  was  on  the  point  of  starting 
for  Parthia,  and  a  prophecy  had  said  that  the  Par- 
thians  could  only  be  conquered  by  a  king.  But  the 
Roman  people  were  sensitive  about  names.  Though 
their  liberties  were  restricted  for  the  present,  they 
liked  to  hope  that  one  day  the  Forum  might  recover 
its  greatness.  The  Senate,  meditating  on  the  insult 
whicTi  they  had  received,  concluded  that  Caesar  might 
be  tempted,  and  that  if  they  could  bring  him  to  con- 
sent he  would  lose  the  people's  hearts.  They  had 
already  made  him  Dictator  for  life  ;  they  voted  next 
that  he  really  should  be  "King,  and,  not  formally  per- 
haps, but  tentatively,  they  offered  him  the  crown. 
He  was  sounded  as  to  whether  he  would  accept  it. 
He  understood  the  snare,  and  refused.  What  was  to 
be  done  next  ?  He  would  soon  be  gone  to  the  East. 
Rome  and  its  hollow  adulations  would  lie  behind  him, 
and  their  one  opportunity  would  be  gone  also.  They 
employed  some  one  to  place  a  diadem  on  the  head  of 
his   statue   which   stood  upon   the  Rostra.^     It  was 

1  So  Dion  Cassius  states,  on  what  authority  we  know  not.  Suetonius 
Bays  that  as  Cassar  was  returning  from  the  Latin  festival  some  one  placed 
%  laurel  crown  on  the  statue,  tied  with  a  white  ribbon. 


504  Ccesar. 

done  publicly,  in  the  midst  of  a  vast  crowd,  in  Cne- 
sar's  presence.  Two  eager  tribunes  tore  the  diadem 
down,  and  ordered  the  offender  into  custody.  The 
treachery  of  the  Senate  was  not  the  only  danger. 
His,  friends  in  the  army  had  the  same  ambition  for 
him.  A  few  days  later,  as  he  was  riding  through  the 
streets,  he  was  saluted  as  King  by  the  mob.  Caesar 
answered  calmly  that  he  was  not  King,  but  Caesar, 
and  there  the  matter  might  have  ended  ;  but  the 
tribunes  rushed  into  the  crowd  to  arrest  the  leaders ; 
a  riot  followed,  for  which  Caesar  blamed  them  ;  they 
complained  noisily  ;  he  brought  their  conduct  before' 
the  Senate,  and  they  were  censured  and  suspended  ; 
but  suspicion  was  doing  its  work,  and  honest  republi- 
can hearts  began  to  heat  and  kindle. 

The  kingship  assumed  a  more  serious  form  on  the 
15th  of  February  at  the  Lupercalia — the  ancient 
carnival.  Caesar  was  in  his  chair,  in  his  consular 
purple,  wearing  a  wreath  of  bay,  wrought  in  gold. 
The  honor  of  the  wreath  was  the  only  distinction 
which  he  had  accepted  from  the  Senate  with  pleasure. 
He  retained  a  remnant  of  youthful  vanity,  and  the 
twisted  leaves  concealed  his  baldness.  Antony,  his 
colleague  in  the  consulship,  approached  with  a  tiara, 
and  placed  it  on  Caesar's  head,  saying,  "  The  people 
give  you  this  by  my  hand."  That  Antony  had  no 
sinister  purpose  is  obvious.  He  perhaps  spoke  for 
the  army ;  ^  or  it  may  be  that  Caesar  himself  suggested 
Antony's  action,  that  he  might  end  the  agitation  of 
so  dangerous  a  subject.  He  answered  in  a  loud  voice 
*'  that  the  Romans  had  no  king  but  God,"  and  ordered 
that  the  tiara  should  be  taken  to  the  Capitol,  and 

1  The  fact  is  certain.    Cicero  taunted  Antony  with  it  in  the  Senate,  ic 
the  Second  Philippic. 


The  Conspiracy,  ,  ,  605 

placed  on  the  statue  of  Jupiter  Olympius.  The  crowd 
burst  into  an  enthusiastic  cheer;  and  an  inscription 
on  a  brass  tablet  recorded  that  the  Roman  people  had 
offered  Caesar  the  crown  by  the  hands  of  the  consul, 
and  that  Caesar  had  refused  it. 

The  question  of  the  kingship  was  over ;  but  a  vague 
alarm  had  been  created,  which  answered  the  purpose 
of  the  Optimates.  Caesar  was  at  their  mercy  any 
day.  They  had  sworn  to  maintain  all  his  acts.  They 
had  sworn,  after  Cicero's  speech,  individually  and  col- 
lectively to  defend  his  life.  Caesar,  whether  he  be- 
lieved them  sincere  or  not,  had  taken  them  at  their 
word,  and  came  daily  to  the  Senate  unarmed  and 
without  a  guard.  He  had  a  protection  in  the  people. 
If  the  Optimates  killed  him  without  preparation,  they 
knew  that  they  would  be  immediately  massacred. 
J^ut  an  atmosphere  of  suspicion  and  uncertainty  had 
been  successfully  generated,  of  which  they  determined 
to  take  immediate  advantage.  There  were  no  troops 
in  the  city.  Lepidus,  Caesar's  master  of  the  horse, 
who  had  been  appointed  governor  of  Gaul,  was  out- 
side the  gates,  with  a  few  cohorts ;  but  Lepidus  was 
a  person  of  feeble  character,  and  they  trusted  to  be 
able  to  deal  with  him. 

Sixty  senators,  in  all,  were  parties  to  the  immediate 
conspiracy.  Of  these  nine  tenths  were  members  of 
the  old  faction  whom  Caesar  had  pardoned,  and  who, 
of  all  his  acts,  resented  most  that  he  had  been  able 
to  pardon  them.  They  were  the  men  who  had  stayed 
at  home,  like  Cicero,  from  the  fields  of  Thapsus  and 
Munda,  and  had  pretended  penitence  and  submission 
that  they  might  take  an  easier  road  to  rid  themselves 
of  their  enemy.  Their  motives  were  the  ambition  of 
their  order  and  personal  hatred  of  Caesar ;  but  they 


506  Ccesar. 

persuaded  themselves  that  they  were  animated  by- 
patriotism,  and  as,  in  their  hands,  the  Republic  had 
been  a  mockery  of  liberty,  so  they  aimed  at  restoring 
it  by  a  mock  tyrannicide.  Their  oaths  and  their  pro- 
fessions were  nothing  to  them.  If  they  were  entitled 
to  kill  Caesar,  they  were  entitled  equally  to  deceive 
him.  No  stronger  evidence  is  needed  of  the  demoral- 
ization of  the  Roman  Senate  than  the  completeness 
with  which  they  were  able  to  disguise  from  them- 
selves the  baseness  of  their  treachery.  One  man  only 
they  were  able  to  attract  into  cooperation  who  had 
a  reputation  for  honesty,  and  could  be  conceived, 
without  absurdity,  to  be  animated  by  a  disinterested 
purpose. 

Marcus  Brutus  was  the  son  of  Cato's  sister  Servilia, 
the  friend,  and  a  scandal  said  the  mistress,  of  Caesar. 
That  he  was  Caesar's  son  was  not  too  absurd  for  the 
credulity  of  Roman  drawing-rooms.  Brutus  himself 
could  not  have  believed  in  the  existence  of  such  a  re- 
lation, for  he  was  deeply  attached  to  his  mother;  and 
although,  under  the  influence  of  his  uncle  Cato,  he 
had  taken  the  Senate's  side  in  the  war,  he  had  ac- 
cepted afterwards  not  pardon  only  from  Caesar,  but 
favors  of  many  kinds,  for  which  he  had  professed,  and 
probably  felt,  some  real  gratitude.  He  had  married 
Cato's  daughter,  Portia,  and  on  Cato's  death  had  pub- 
lished a  eulogy  upon  him.  Caesar  left  him  free  to 
think  and  write  what  he  pleased.  He  had  made  him 
praetor ;  he  had  nominated  him  to  the  governorship 
of  Macedonia.  Brutus  was  perhaps  the  only  member 
of  the  senatorial  party  in  whom  Caesar  felt  genuine 
confidence.  His  known  integrity,  and  Caesar's  ac- 
knowledged regard  for  him,  made  his  accession  to  the 
conspiracy  an  object  of  particular  importance.     The 


The  Conspifacy.  507 

name  of  Brutus  would  be  a  guaranty  to  the  people 
of  rectitude  of  intention.  Brutus,  as  the  world  went, 
was  of  more  than  average  honesty.  He  had  sworn 
to  be  faithful  to  Csesar  as  the  rest  had  sworn,  and  an 
oath  with  him  was  not  a  thing  to  be  emotionalized 
away;  but  he  was  a  fanatical  republican,  a  man  of 
g:Oomy  habits,  given  to  dreams  and  omens,  and  easily 
liable  to  be  influenced  by  appeals  to  visionary  feel- 
ings. Caius  Cassius,  his  brother-in-law,  was  employed 
to  work  upon  him.  Cassius,  too,  was  prsetor  that 
year,  having  been  also  nominated  to  office  by  Csesar. 
He  knew  Brutus,  he  knew  where  and  how  to  move 
him.  He  reminded  him  of  the  great  traditions  of  his 
name.  A  Brutus  had  delivered  Rome  from  the  Tar- 
quins.  The  blood  of  a  Brutus  was  consecrated  to 
liberty.  This,  too,  was  mockery:  Brutus,  who  ex- 
pelled the  Tarquins,  put  his  sons  to  death,  and  died 
childless;  Marcus  Brutus  came  of  good  plebeian  fam- 
ily, with  no  glories  of  tyrannicide  about  them  ;  but 
an  imaginary  genealogy  suited  well  with  the  spurious 
heroics  which  veiled  the  motives  of  Caesar's  mur- 
derers. 

Brutus,  once  wrought  upon,  became  with  Cassius 
the  most  ardent  in  the  cause  which  assumed  the  as- 
pect to  him  of  a  sacred  duty.  Behind  them  were  the 
crowd  of  senators  of  the  familiar  faction,  and  others 
worse  than  they,  who  had  not  even  the  excuse  of  hav- 
ing been  partisans  of  the  beaten  cause ;  men  who  had 
fought  at  Caesar's  side  till  the  war  was  over,  and  be- 
lieved, like  Labienus,  that  to  them  Caesar  owed  his 
fortune,  and  that  he  alone  ought  not  to  reap  the  har- 
vest. One  of  these  was  Trebonius,  who  had  miscon- 
ducted himself  in  Spain,  and  was  smarting  under  the 
recollection  of  his  own  failures.     Trebonius  had  long 


508  Cmar, 

before  sounded  Antony  on  the  desirableness  of  remoy- 
ing  their  chief.  Antony,  though  he  remained  himself 
true,  had  unfortunately  kept  his  friend's  counsel. 
Trebonius  had  been  named  by  Caesar  for  a  future  con- 
sulship, but  a  distant  reward  was  too  little  for  him. 
Another  and  a  yet  baser  traitor  was  Decimus  Brutus, 
whom  Csesar  valued  and  trusted  beyond  all  his  officers, 
whom  he  had  selected  as  guardian  for  Augustus,  and 
had  noticed,  as  was  seen  afterwards,  with  special 
affection  in  his  will.  The  services  of  these  men  were 
invaluable  to  the  conspirators  on  account  of  their  in- 
fluence with  the  army.  Decimus  Brutus,  like  Labie- 
nus,  had  enriched  himself  in  Csesar's  campaigns,  and 
had  amassed  near  half  a  million  of'  English  money.^ 
It  may  have  been  easy  to  persuade  him  and  Trebonius 
that  a  grateful  Republic  would  consider-  no  recom- 
pense too  large  to  men  who  would  sacrifice  their  com- 
mander to  their  country.  To  Csesar  they  could  be 
no  more  than  satellites  ;  the  first  prizes  of  the  Empire 
would  be  offered  to  the  choice  of  the  saviours  of  the 
constitution. 

So  composed  was  this  memorable  band,  to  whom 
was  to  fall  the  bad  distinction  of  completing  the  ruin 
of  the  senatorial  rule.  Caesar  would  have  spared 
something  of  it ;  enough,  perhaps,  to  have  thrown  up 
shoots  again  as  soon  as  he  had  himself  passed  away 
in  the  common  course  of  nature.  By  combining  in  a 
focus  the  most  hateful  characteristics  of  the  order,  by 
revolting  the  moral  instincts  of  mankind  by  ingrati- 
tude  and  treachery,  they  stripped  their  cause  by  their 
own  hands  of  the  false  glamour  which  they  hoped  to 
throw  over  it.     The  profligacy  and  avarice,  the  cyni- 

1  "Cum  ad  rempublicam  liberandam  accessi,  HS.  mihi  fuit  quadringoiv 
ties  amplius."  —  Decimus  Brutus  to  Cicero,  Ad  Fam.  xi.  1(. 


The  Conspiracy,  609 

cal  disregard  of  obligation,  which  had  marked  the 
Senate's  supremacy  for  a  century,  had  exhibited 
abundantly  their  unfitness  for  the  high  functions 
which  had  descended  to  them ;  but  custom  and  natural 
tenderness  for  a  form  of  government,  the  past  his- 
tory of  which  had  been  so  glorious,  might  have  con- 
tinued still  to  shield  them  from  the  penalty  of  their 
iniquities.  The  murder  of  Caesar  filled  the  measure 
of  their  crimes,  and  gave  the  last  and  necessary  im- 
pulse to  the  closing  act  of  the  revolution. 

Thus  the  Ides  of  March  drew  near.  Caesar  was  to 
set  out  in  a  few  days  for  Parthia.  Decimus  Brutus 
was  going,  as  governor,  to  the  north  of  Italy,  Lepidus 
to  Gaul,  Marcus  Brutus  to  Macedonia,  and  Tre- 
bonius  to  Asia  Minor.  Antony,  Caesar's  colleague  in 
the  consulship*,  was  to  remain  in  Italy.  Dolabella, 
Cicero's  son-in-law,  was  to  be  consul  with  him  as 
soon  as  Caesar  should  have  left  for  the  East.  The 
foreign  appointments  were  all  made  for  five  years, 
and  in  another  week  the  party  would  be  scattered. 
The  time  for  action  had  come,  if  action  there  was  to 
be.  Papers  were  dropped  in  Brutus's  room,  bidding 
him  awake  from  his  sleep.  On  the  statue  of  Junius 
Brutus  some  hot  republican  wrote  "  Would  that  thou 
wast  alive !  "  The  assassination  in  itself  was  easy, 
for  Caesar  would  take  no  precautions.  So  porten- 
tous an  intention  could  not  be  kept  entirely  secret ; 
many  friends  warned  him  to  beware ;  but  he  dis- 
dained too  heartily  the  worst  that  his  enemies  could 
do  to  him  to  vex  himself  with  thinking  of  them,  and 
he  forbade  the  subject  to  be  mentioned  any  more  in 
his  presence.  Portents,  prophecies,  soothsayings, 
frightful  aspects  in  the  sacrifices,  natural  growths  of 
alarm  i<,nd  excitement,  were  equally  vain.     "Am  I 


510  CcBBar. 

to  be  frightened,"  he  said,  in  answer  to  some  report 
of  the  haruspices,  "because  a  sheep  is  without  a 
heart  ?  " 

An  important  meeting  of  the  Senate  had  been 
called  for  the  Ides  (the  15th)  of  the  month.  The 
Pontifices,  it  was  whispered,  intended  to  bring  on 
again  the  question  of  the  Kingship  before  Caesar's  de- 
parture. The  occasion  would  be  appropriate.  The 
Senate-house  itself  was  a  convenient  scene  of  opera- 
tions. The  conspirators  met  at  supper  the  evening 
before  at  Cassius's  house.  Cicei'o,  to  his  regret,  was 
not  invited.  The  plan  was  simple,  and  was  rapidly 
arranged.  Caesar  would  attend  unarmed.  The  sena- 
tors not  in  the  secret  would  be  unarmed  also.  The 
party  who  intended  to  act  were  to  provide  them- 
selves with  poniards,  which  could  be  easily  concealed 
in  their  paper  boxes.  So  far  all  was  simple  ;  but  a 
March  14  qucstion  rosc  whether  Caesar  only  was  to 
B.  c.4i.  i^g  killed,  or  whether  Antony  and  Lepidus 
were  to  be  dispatched  along  with  him.  They  decided 
that  Caesar's  death  would  be  sufficient.  To  spill  blood 
without  necessity  would  mar,  it  was  thought,  the  sub- 
limity of  their  exploit.  Some  of  them  liked  Antony. 
None  supposed  that  either  he  or  Lepidus  would  be 
dangerous  when  Caesar  was  gone.  In  this  resolution 
Cicero  thought  that  they  made  a  fatal  mistake ;  ^  fine 
emotions  were  good  in  their  place,  in  the  perorations 
of  speeches  and  such  like  ;  Antony,  as  Cicero  admit- 
ted, had  been  signally  kind  to  him ;  but  the  killing 
Caesar  was  a  serious  business,  and  Ms  friends  should 
have  died  along  with  him.     It  was  determined  other- 

1  "  Vellem  Idibus  Martiis  me  ad  coenam  invitasses.  Reliquiarum  nihil" 

faisset."  —  Ad  Cassium,  Ad  Fam.  xii.  4.     And  again:  "Quam  vellem  ad 

illas  pulcherrimas  epulas  me  Idibus  Martiis  invitasses !  Reliquiarum  nihi 
habercmus."  —  Ad  Trebonium,  Ad  Fam.  x.  28. 


The  Eve  of  the  Murder.  511 

wise.  Antony  and  Lepidus  were  not  to  be  touched. 
For  the  rest,  the  assassins  had  merely  to  be  in  their 
places  in  the  Senate  in  good  time.  When  Caesar  en- 
tered, Trebonius  was  to  detain  Antony  in  conversa- 
tion at  the  door.  The  others  were  to  gather  about 
CaBsar's  chair  on  pretence  of  presenting  a  petition, 
and  so  could  make  an  end.  A  gang  of  gladiators 
were  to  be  secreted  in  the  adjoining  theatre  to  be 
ready  should  any  unforeseen  difficulty  present  itself. 

The  same  evening,  the  14th  of  March,  Caesar  was 
at  a  "  Last  Supper  "  at  the  house  of  Lepidus.  The 
conversation  turned  on  death,  and  on  the  kind  of 
death  which  was  most  to  be  desired.  Caesar,  who 
was  signing  papers  while  the  rest  were  talking, 
looked  up  and  said,  "  A  sudden  one."  When  great 
men  die,  imagination  insists  that  all  nature  shall  have 
felt  the  shock.  Strange  stories  were  told  in  after 
years  of  the  uneasy  labors  of  the  elements  that  night. 

A  little  ere  the  mightiest  Julius  fell, 

The  graves  did  open,  and  the  sheeted  dead 

Did  squeak  and  jibber  in  the  Roman  streets. 

The  armor  of  Mars,  which  stood  in  the  hall  of  the 
Pontifical  Palace,  crashed  down  upon  the  pavement. 
The  door  of  Csesar's  room  flew  open.  Calpurnia 
dreamt  her  husband  was  murdered,  and  that  she 
saw  him  ascending  into  heaven,  and  received  by  the 
hand  of  God.^  In  the  morning  the  sacrifices  were 
again  unfavorable.  Csesar  was  restless.  Some  natu- 
ral disorder  affected  his  spirits,  and  his  spirits  were 
reacting  on  his  body.  Contrary  to  his  usual  habit, 
be  gave  way  to  depression.  He  decided,  at  his  wife's 
entreaty,  that  he  would  not  attend  the  Senate  that 
day. 

A  Dion  Cassias,  C  Julius  Ctesar,  xliv.  17. 


512  Ccesar. 

The  house  was  full.  The  conspirators  were  in 
March  15,  their  places  with  their  daggers  ready.  At- 
B.  C.44.  teudants  came  in  to  remove  Cagsar's  chair. 
It  was  announced  that  he  was  not  coming.  Delay 
might  be  fatal.  They  conjectured  that  he  already 
suspected  something.  A  day's  respite,  and  all  might 
be  discovered.  His  familiar  friend  whom  he  trusted 
—  the  coincidence  is  striking  !  —  was  employed  to 
betray  him.  Decimus  Brutus,  whom  it  was  impossi- 
ble for  him  to  distrust,  went  to  entreat  his  attend- 
ance, giving  reasons  to  which  he  knew  that  Caesar 
would  listen,  unless  the  plot  had  been  actually  be- 
trayed. It  was  now  eleven  in  the  forenoon.  Csesar 
shook  off  his  uneasiness,  and  rose  to  go.  As  he 
crossed  the  hall,  his  statue  fell,  and  shivered  on  the 
stones.  Some  servant,  perhaps,  had  heard  whispers, 
and  wished  to  warn  him.  As  he  still  passed  on,  a 
stranger  thrust  a  scroll  into  his  hand,  and  begged 
him  to  read  it  on  the  spot.  It  contained  a  list  of  the 
conspirators,  with  a  clear  account  of  the  plot.  He 
supposed  it  to  be  a  petition,  and  placed  it  carelessly 
among  his  other  papers.  The  fate  of  the  Empire 
hung  upon  a  thread,  but  the  thread  was  not  broken. 
As  Cassar  had  lived  to  reconstruct  the  Roman  world, 
so  his  death  was  necessary  to  finish  the  work.  He 
went  on  to  the  Curia,  and  the  senators  said  to  them- 
selves that  the  augurs  had  foretold  his  fate,  but  he 
would  not  listen ;  he  was  doomed  for  his  "  contempt 
of  religion."  ^ 

Antony,  who  was  in  attendance,  was  detained,  as 
had  been  arranged,  by  Trebonius.  Caesar  entered, 
and  took  his  seat.  His  presence  awed  men,  in  spite 
of  themselves,  and  the  conspirators  had  determined 

1  "  Spreta  religione."  —  Suetonius. 


Murder  of  Ccesar,  613 

to  act  at  once,  lest  they  should  lose  courage  to  act  at 
all.  He  was  familiar  and  easy  of  access.  They 
gathered  round  him.  He  knew  them  all.  There 
was  not  one  from  whom  he  had  not  a  right  to  expect 
some  sort  of  gratitude,  and  the  movement  S'lggested 
no  suspicion.  One  had  a  story  to  tell  him;  another 
eome  favor  to  ask.  TuUius  Cimber,  whom  he  had 
just  made  governor  of  Bithynia,  then  came  close  to 
him,  with  some  request  which  he  was  unwilling  to 
grant.  Cimber  caught  his  gown,  as  if  in  entreaty, 
and  dragged  it  from  his  shoulders.  Cassius,^  who 
was  standing  behind,  stabbed  him  in  the  throat.  He 
started  up  with  a  cry,  and  caught  Cassius's  arm.  An- 
other poniard  entered  his  breast,  giving  a  mortal 
wound.  He  looked  round,  and  seeing  not  one  friendly 
face,  but  only  a  ring  of  daggers  pointing  at  him,  he 
drewiiis  gown  over  his  head,  gathered  the  folds  about 
him  that  he  might  fall  decently,  and  sank  down  with- 
out uttering  another  word.^  Cicero  was  present. 
The  feelings  with  which  he  watched  the  scene  are 
unrecorded,  but  may  easily  be  imagined.  Waving 
his  dagger,  dripping  with  Caesar's  blood,  Brutus 
shouted  to  Cicero  by  name,  congratulating  him  that 
liberty  was  restored.^  The  Senate  rose  with  shrieks 
and  confusion,  and  rushed  into  the  Forum.  The 
crowd  outside  caught  the  words  that  Caesar  was  dead, 

1  Not  perhaps  Caius  Cassias,  but  another.  Suetonius  says  "alter  e 
Cassiis." 

2  So  says  Suetonius,  the  best  extant  authority,  who  refers  to  the  famous 
words  addressed  to  Brutus  only  as  a  legend  :  *  Atque  ita  tribus  et  vlginti 
plagis  confossus  est,  uno  modo  ad  primum  ictum  gemitii  sine  voce  edito. 
Etsi  tradiderunt  quidam  Marco  Bruto  irruenti  dixisse  km  <rv  el  Ueivoty* 
KoX  av  TiKvovl  "  — Julius  Ccesar,  82. 

8  "Cruentum  alte  extollens  Marcos  Brutus  pugionem,  Ciceronera  nomi- 
natim  exclamavit  atque  ei  recuperatam  libertatem  est  gratulatus."  — i'Ai- 
Ufpic  ii.  12. 


614  Coesar. 

and  scattered  to  their  houses.  Antony,  guessing  that 
those  who  had  killed  Csesar  would  not  spare  liimself, 
hurried  off  into  concealment.  The  murderers,  bleed- 
ing some  of  them  from  wounds  which  they  had  given 
one  another  in  their  eagerness,  followed,  crying  that 
the  tyrant  .was  dead,  and  that  Rome  was  free ;  and 
the  body  of  the  great  Caesar  was  left  alone  in  the 
house  where  a  few  weeks  before  Cicero  told  him  that 
he  was  so  necessary  to  his  country  that  every  senator 
would  die  before  harm  should  reach  hi  in  I 


CHAPTER  XXVII. 

The  tyrannicides,  as  the  murderers  of  Osesar  called 
themselves,  had  expected  that  the  Roman  mob  would 
De  caught  by  the  cry  of  Liberty,  and  would  ji^j-ch  15, 
hail  them  as  the  deliverers  of  their  country.  ^-  ^'  ^' 
They  found  that  the  people  did  not  respond  as  they 
had  anticipated.  The  city  was  stunned.  The  Forum 
was  empty.  The  gladiators,  Avhom  they  had  secreted 
in  the  Temple,  broke  out  and  plundered  the  unpro- 
tected booths.  A  dead  and  ominous  silence  prevailed 
everywhere.  At  length  a  few  citizens  collected  in 
knots.  Brutus  spoke,  and  Cassius  spoke.  They  ex- 
tolled their  old  constitution.  They  said  that  Csesar 
had  overthrown  it ;  that  they  had  slain  him,  not  from 
private  hatred  or  private  interest,  but  to  restore  the 
liberties  of  Rome.  The  audience  was  dead  and  cold. 
No  answering  shouts  came  back  to  reassure  them. 
The  citizens  could  not  forget  that  these  men  who 
spoke  so  fairly  had  a  few  days  before  fawned  on  Cse- 
sar  as  the  saviour  of  the  Empire,  and,  as  if  human 
honors  were  too  little,  had  voted  a  temple  to  him  as 
a  god.  The  fire  would  not  kindle.  Lepidus  came  in 
with  troops,  and  occupied  the  Forum.  The  conspira- 
tors withdrew  into  the  Capitol,  where  Cicero  and 
others  joined  them,  and  the  night  was  passed  in 
earnest  discussion  what  next  was  to  be  done.  They 
had  intended  to  declare  that  Cnesar  had  been  a  tyrant, 
to  throw  his  bod}^  into  the  Tiber,  and  to  confiscate 
bis  property  to  the  State.     They  discovered  to  their 


516  Ccesar. 

consternation  that  if  Caesar  was  a  tryant,  all  liis  acts 
would  be  invalidated.  The  praetors  and  tribunes 
held  their  offices,  the  governors  their  provin  ^,es,  un- 
der Csesar's  nomination.  If  Caesar's  acts  were  set 
March  16,  asidc,  Dccimus  Biutus  was  hot  governor  of- 
E.G. 44.  North  Italy,  nor  Marcus  Brutus  of  Mace- 
donia ;  nor  Was  Dolabella  consul,  as  he  had  instantly- 
claimed  to  be  on  Caesar's  death.  Their  names,  and 
the  names  of  many  more  whom  Caesar  had  promoted, 
would  have  to  be  laid  before  the  Comitia,  and  in  the 
doubtful  humor  of  the  people  they  little  liked  the 
risk.  That  the  dilemma  should  have  been  totally 
unforeseen  was  characteristic  of  the  men  and  their 
capacity. 

Nor  was  this  the  worst.  Lands  had  been  allotted 
to  Caesar's  troops.  Man 37^  thousands  of  colonists  were 
waiting  to  depart  for  Carthage  and  Corinth  and 
other  places  where  settlements  had  been  provided 
for  them.  These  arrangements  would  equally  fall 
through,  and  it  was  easy  to  know  what  would  follow. 
Antony  and  Lepidus,  too,  had  to  be  reckoned  with. 
Antony,  as  the  surviving  consul,  was  the  supreme 
lawful  authority  in  the  city  ;  and  Lepidus  and  his* 
.joldiers  might  have  a  word  to  say  if  the  body  of  their 
great  commander  was  flung  into  the  river  as  the 
corpse  of  a  malefactor.  Interest  and  fear  suggested 
more  moderate  counsels.  The  conspirators  determined 
that  Caesar's  appointments  must  stand ;  his  acts,  it 
seemed,  must  stand  also  ;  and  his  remains,  therefore, 
must  be  treated  with  respecb.  Imagination  took  an- 
other flight.  Caesar's  death  might  be  regarded  as  a 
Bacrifice,  an  expiatory  offering  for  the  sins  of  the  na- 
tion ;  and  the  divided  parties  might  embrace  in  virtue 
of  the  atonement.     They  agreed  to  send  for  Antony, 


Speech  of  Cicero,  517 

and  invite  him  to  assist  in  saving  societ}^ ;  and  they 
asked  Cicero  to  be  tlieir  messenger.  Cicero,  great 
and  many  as  his  faults  might  be,  was  not  a  fool.  He 
declined  to  go  on  so  absurd  a  mission.  He  knew 
Antony  too  well  to  dream  that  he  could  be  imposed 
on  by  fantastic  illusions.  Antony,  he  said,  would 
promise  anything,  but  if  they  trusted  him,  they  would 
have  reason  to  repent.^  Others,  however,  undertook 
the  office.  Antony  agreed  to  meet  them,  and  the 
next  morning  the  Senate  was  assembled  in  the  1  am- 
ple of  Terra. 

Antony  presided  as  consul,  and  after  a  few  words 
from  him  Cicero  rose.  He  disapproved  of  the  course 
which  his  friends  were  taking  ;  he  foresaw  what  must 
come  of  it ;  but  he  had  been  overruled,  and  he  made 
the  best  of  what  he  could  not  help.  He  gave  a  sketch 
of  Roman  political  history.  He  went  back  to  the 
secession  to  Mount  Ave n tine.  He  spoke  of  the 
Gracchi,  of  Saturninus  and  Glaucia,  of  Marius  and 
Sylla,  of  Sertorius  and  Pompey,  of  Csesar  and  the 
still  unforgotten  Clodius.  He  described  the  fate  of 
Athens  and  of  other  Grecian  States  into  which  fac- 
tion had  penetrated.  If  Rome  continued  divided,  the 
conquerors  would  rule  over  its  ruins  ;  therefore  he 
appealed  to  the  two  factions  to  forget  their  rivalries 
and  to  return  to  peace  and  concord.  But  they  must 
decide  at  once,  for  the  signs  were  already  visible  of  a 
fresh  conflict. 

"  Csesar  is  slain,"  he  said.  *'  The  Capitol  is  occu- 
pied by  the  Optimates,  the  Forum  by  soldiers,  and 
the  people  are  full  of  terror.  Is  violence  to  be  again 
answered  by  more  violence  ?  These  many  years  >vo 
have  lived  less  like  men  than  like  wild  beasts  in  cy- 

1  Philippic  ii.  35. 


518  Ccesar. 

sles  of  recurring  revenge.  Let  us  forgefc  the  past. 
Let  us  draw  a  veil  over  all  that  has  been  done,  not 
looking  too  curiously  into  the  acts  of  any  man. 
Much  may  be  said  to  show  that  Csesar  deserved 
his  death,  and  much  against  those  who  have  killed 
him.  But  to  raise  the  question  will  breed  fresh  quar- 
rels ;  and  if  we  are  wise  we  shall  regard  the  scene 
which  we  have  witnessed  as  a  convulsion  of  nature 
which  is  now  at  an  .end.  Let  Csesar's  ordinances,  let 
Caesar's  appointments  be  maintained.  None  such 
must  be  heard  of  again.  But  what  is  done  cannot 
be  undone."  ^ 

Admirable  advice,  were  it  as  easy  to  act  on  good 
counsel  as  to  give  it.  The  murder  of  such  a  man  as 
Caesar  was  not  to  be  so  easily  smoothed  over.  Bub 
the  delusive  vision  seemed  for  a  moment  to  please. 
The  Senate  passed  an  act  of  oblivion.  The  agitation 
in  the  army  was  quieted  when  the  men  heard  that 
their  lands  were  secure.  But  there  were  two  other 
questions  which  required  an  answer,  and  an  immedi- 
ate one.  Caesar's  body,  after  remaining  till  evening 
on  the  floor  of  the  Senate-house,  had  been  carried 
home  in  the  dusk  in  a  litter  by  three  of  his  servants, 
and  was  now  lying  in  his  palace.  If  it  was  not  to 
be  thrown  into  the  Tiber,  what  was  to  be  done  with 
it  ?  Caesar  had  left  a  will,  which  was  safe  with  his 
other  papers  in  the  hands  of  Antony.  Was  the  will 
to  be  read  and  recognized  ?  Though  Cicero  had  ad- 
vised in  the  Senate  that  the  discussion  whether  Caesar 
had  deserved  death  should  not  be  raised,  yet  it  was 
plain  to  him  and  to  every  one  that,  unless  Caesar  was 
held  guilty  of  conspiring  against  the  constitution,  the 

1  Abridfifed  from  Dion  Cassius,  who  probably  gives  no  more  than  the 
traaltionary  version  of  Cicero's  words. 


Funeral  of  Ccesar.  519 

murder  was  and  would  be  regarded  as  a  most  exe- 
crable crime.  He  dreaded  the  effect  of  a  public  fu- 
neral. He  feared  that  the  will  might  contain  provi- 
sions which  would  rouse  the  passions  of  the  people. 
Though  Caesar  was  not  for  various  reasons  to  be  pro- 
nounced a  tyrant,  Cicero  advised  that  he  should  be 
buried  privately,  as  if  his  name  was  under  a  cloud, 
and  that  his  property  should  be  escheated  to  the  na- 
tion. But  the  humor  of  conciliation  and  the  theory 
of  "  the  atoning  sacrifice  "  had  caught  the  Senate. 
Capsar  had  done  great  things  for  his  country.  It 
would  please  the  army  that  he  should  have  an  honor- 
able sepulture. 

If  they  had  refused,  the  result  would  not  have  been 
greatly  different.  Sooner  or  later,  when  the  stun- 
ning effects  of  the  shock  had  passed  off,  the  murder 
must  have  appeared  to  Rome  and  Italy  in  its  true 
colors.  The  Optimates  talked  of  the  constitution. 
The  constitution  in  their  hands  had  been  a  parody 
of  liberty.  Caesar's  political  life  had  been  spent  in 
wresting  from  them  the  powers  which  they  had 
abused.  Caesar  had  punished  the  oppres-  m^rch 
Bors  of  the  provinces.  Caesar  had  forced  the  ^•^•**- 
nobles  to  give  the  people  a  share  of  the  public  lands. 
Csesar  had  opened  the  doors  of  citizenship  to  the 
libertini,  the  distant  colonists,  and  the  provincials. 
It  was  for  this  that  the  Senate  hated  him.  For  this 
they  had  fought  against  him  ;  for  this  they  murdered 
bim.  No  Roman  had  ever  served  his  country  better 
m  peace  or  war,  and  thus  he  had  been  rewarded. 

Such  thoughts  were  already  Avorking  in  ter.s  of 
thousands  of  breasts.  A  feeling  of  resentment  was 
fast  rising,  with  as  yet  no  certain  purpose  before  it. 
In  this  mood  the  funeral  could  not  fail  to  lead  to 


520  Coesar, 

some  fierce  explosion.  For  this  reason  Antony  had 
pressed  for  it,  and  the  Senate  had  given  their  con- 
sent. 

The  body  was  brought  down  to  the  Forum  and 
placed  upon  the  Rostra.  The  dress  had  not  been 
changed ;  the  gown,  gashed  with  daggers  and  soaked 
in  blood,  was  still  wrapped  about  it.  The  will  was 
read  first.  It  reminded  the  Romans  that  they  had 
been  always  in  Caesar's  thoughts,  for  he  had  left  each 
citizen  seventy-five  drachmas  (nearly  3^.  of  English 
money),  and  he  had  left  them  his  gardens  on  the  Ti- 
ber, as  a  perpetual  recreation  ground,  a  possession 
which  Domitius  Ahenobarbus  had  designed  for  him- 
self before  Pharsalia.  He  had  made  Octavius  his 
general  heir ;  among  the  second  heirs,  should  Octa- 
vius fail,  he  had  named  Decimus  Brutus,  who  had 
betrayed  him.  A  deep  movement  of  emotion  passed 
through  the  crowd  when,  beside  the  consideration  for 
themselves,  they  heard  from  this  record,  which  could 
not  lie,  a  proof  of  the  confidence  which  had  been  so 
abused.  Antony,  after  waiting  for  the  passion  to 
work,  then  came  forward. 

Cicero  had  good  reason  for  his  fear  of  Antony. 
He  was  a  loose  soldier,  careless  in  his  life,  ambitious, 
extravagant,  little  more  scrupulous  perhaps  than  any 
average  Roman  gentleman.  But  for  Ccesar  his  affec- 
tion was  genuine.  The  people  were  in  intense  expec- 
tation. He  produced  the  body,  all  bloody  as  it  had 
fallen,  and  he  bade  a  herald  first  read  the  votes 
which  the  Senate  had  freshly  passed,  heaping  those 
extravagant  honors  upon  Caesar  which  he  had  not  de- 
sired, and  the  oath  which  the  senators  had  each  per- 
s»<nally  taken  to  defend  him  from  violence.  He  then 
spoke  —  spoke   with   the    natural   vehemence   of    a 


Speech  of  Antony,  521 

friend,  yet  saying  nothing  which  was  not  literally 
true.  The  services  of  Caesar  neither  needed  nor  per- 
mitted the  exaggeration  of  eloquence. 

He  began  with  the  usual  encomiums.  He  spoke 
of  Caesar's  family,  his  birth,  his  early  history,  his 
personal  characteristics,  his  thrifty  private  habits,  his 
public  hberality  ;  he  described  him  as  generous  to  his 
friends,  forbearing  with  his  enemies,  without  evilin 
himself,  and  reluctant  to  believe  evil  of  others. 

"  Power  in  most  men,"  he  said,  "  has  brought  their 
faults  to  light.  Power  in  Csesar  brought  into  prom- 
inence his  excellences.  Prosperity  did  not  make  him 
insolent,  for  it  gave  him  a  sphere  which  corresponded 
to  his  nature.  His  first  services  in  Spain  deserved  a 
triumph ;  of  his  laws  I  could  speak  forever.  His 
campaigns  in  Gaul  are  known  to  you  all.  The  land 
from  which  the  Teutons  and  Cimbri  poured  over  the 
Alps  is  now  as  well  ordered  as  Italy.  Caesar  would 
have  added  Germany  and  Britain  to  your  Empire, 
but  his  enemies  would  not  have  it  so.  They  re- 
garded the  Commonwealth  as  the  patrimony  of  them- 
selves. They  brought  him  home.  They  went  on 
with  their  usurpations  till  you  yourselves  required  his 
help.  He  set  you  free.  He  set  Spain  free.  He  la- 
bored for  peace  with  Pompey,  but  Pompey  preferred 
to  go  into  Greece,  to  bring  the  powers  of  the  East 
upon  you,  and  he  perished  in  his  obstinacy. 

"  Caesar  took  no  honor  to  himself  for  this  victory. 
He  abhorred  the  necessity  of  it.  He  took  no  revenge. 
He  praised  those  who  had  been  faithful  to  Pompey, 
and  he  blamed  Pharnaces  for  deserting  him.  He  was 
Borry  for  Pompey's  death,  and  he  treated  his  murder- 
ers as  they  deserved.  He  settled  Egypt  and  Ar- 
menia.    He  would  have   disposed  of   the  Parthians 


622  Ctjesar, 

had  not  fresh  seditions  recalled  him  to  Italy.  He 
quelled  those  seditions.  He  restored  peace  in  Africa 
and  Spain,  and  again  his  one  desire  was  to  spare  his 
fellow-citizens.  There  was  in  him  an  'inbred  good- 
ness.' ^  He  was  alwa3^s  the  same  —  never  carried 
away  by  anger,  and  never  spoilt  by  success.  He  did 
not  retaliate  for  the  past,  he  never  tried  by  severity 
to  secure  himself  for  the  future.  His  effort  through 
out  was  to  save  all  who  would  allow  themselves  to  be 
saved.  He  repaired  old  acts  of  injustice.  He  re- 
stored the  families  of  those  who  had  been  proscribed 
by  Sylla,  but  he  burnt  unread  the  correspondence  of 
Pompey  and  Scipio,  that  those  whom  it  compromised 
might  neither  suffer  injury  nor  fear  injury.  You 
honored  him  as  your  father ;  you  loved  him  as  youL 
benefactor ;  you  made  him  chief  of  the  State,  not  be- 
ing curious  of  titles,  but  regarding  the  most  which 
you  could  give  as  less  than  he  had  deserved  at  your 
hands.  Towards  the  gods  he  was  High  Priest.  To 
you  he  was  Consul ;  to  the  army  he  was  Imperator ; 
to  the  enemies  of  his  country  Dictator.  In  sum  he 
was  Pater  Patrice.  And  this  your  father,  your  Pon- 
tifex,  this  hero,  whose  person  was  declared  inviolable, 
lies  dead  —  dead,  not  by  disease  or  age,  not  by  war 
or  visitation  of  God,  but  here  at  home,  by  conspiracy 
within  your  own  walls,  slain  in  the  Senate-house,  the 
warrior  unarmed,  the  peacemaker  naked  to  his  foes, 
the  righteous  judge  in  the  seat  of  judgment.  He 
whom  no  foreign  enemy  could  hurt  has  been  killed 
by  his  fellow-countrymen  —  he,  who  had  so  often 
shown  mercy,  by  those  whom  he  had  spared.    Where, 

1  ''Eju,(|)t)Tos  xpTjo-TOTrjs  are  Dion  Cassius's  words.  Antony's  language  wag 
differently  reported,  and  perhaps  there  was  no  literal  record  of  it.  Dion 
Cassius,  however,  can  hardly  have  himself  composed  the  version  which  ho 
gives  in  his  history,  for  he  calls  the  speech  as  ill-t'ined  as  it  was  brilliant. 


Speech  of  Antony,  523 

CaBsar,  is  your  love  for  mankind?  Where  is  the 
sacredness  of  your  life  ?  Where  are  your  laws? 
Here  you  lie  murdered  — here  in  the  Forum,  through 
which  so  often  you  marched  in  triumph  wreathed 
with  garlands  ;  here  upon  the  rostra  from  which  you 
were  wont  to  address  your  people.  Alas  for  your 
gray  hairs  dabbled  in  blood  !  alas  for  this  lacerated 
robe  in  which  you  were  dressed  for  the  sacTifice  !  ''  ^ 

Antony's  words,  as  he  well  knew,  were  a  declara- 
tion of  irreconcilable  war  against  the  murderers  and 
their  friends.  As  his  impassioned  language  did  its 
work  the  multitude  rose  into  fury.  They  cursed  the 
conspirators.  They  cursed  the  Senate  w^ho  had  sat 
by  while  the  deed  was  being  done.  They  had  been 
moved  to  fury  by  the  murder  of  Clodius.  Ten  thou- 
sand Clodiuses,  had  he  been  all  which  their  imagina- 
tion painted  him,  could  not  equal  one  Caesar.  They 
took  on  themselves  the  order  of  the  funeral.  They 
surrounded  the  body,  which  was  reverently  raised  by 
the  officers  of  the  Forum.  Part  proposed  to  carry  it 
to  the  Temple  of  Jupiter,  in  the  Capitol,  and  to  burn 
it  under  the  eyes  of  the  assassins ;  part  to  take  it  into 
the  Senate-house  and  use  the  meeting-place  of  the 
Optiraates  a  second  time  as  the  pyre  of  the  people's 
friend.  A  few  legionaries,  perhaps  to  spare  the  city 
a  general  conflagration,  advised  that  it  should  be  con- 
sumed where  it  lay.  The  platform  was  torn  up  and 
the  broken  timbers  piled  into  a  heap.  Chairs  and 
benches  were  thrown  on  to  it,  the  whole  crowd  rush- 
ing wildly  to  add  a  chip  or  splinter.  Actors  flung  in 
their  dresses,  musicians  their  instruments,  soldiers 
their  swords.  Women  added  their  necklaces  and 
scarfs.     Mothers   brought  up  their  children  to  con- 

1  A'Diidgod  from  Dion  Cassius,  xliv.  36. 


524  Ccesar. 

tribute  toys  and  playthings.    On  the  pile  so  composed 
the  body  of  Ciesar  was  reduced  to  ashes.     The  re- 
mains were  collected  with  affectionate  care 

B.  C.  44. 

and  deposited  in  the  tomb  of  the  Csesars, 
in  the  Campus  Martins.  The  crowd,  it  was  observed, 
was  composed  largely  of  liber tini  and  of  provincials 
whom  Csesar  had  enfranchised.  The  demonstrations 
of  sorrow  were  most  remarkable  among  the  Jews, 
crowds  of  whom  continued  for  many  nights  to  collect 
and  wail  in  the  Forum  at  the  scene  of  the  singular 
ceremony. 

When  the  people  were  in  such  a  mood,  Rome  was 
no  place  for  the  conspirators.  They  scattered  over 
the  Empire:  Decimus  Brutus,  Marcus  Brutus,  Cas- 
sius,  Cimber,  Trebonius,  retreated  to  the  provinces 
which  Caesar  had  assigned  them,  the  rest  clinging  to 
the  shelter  of  their  friends.  The  legions  —  a  striking 
tribute  to  Roman  discipline  —  remained  by  their 
eagles,  faithful  to  their  immediate  duties,  and  obedi- 
ent to  their  officers,  till  it  could  be  seen  how  events 
would  turn.  Lepidus  joined  the  army  in  Gaul;  An- 
tony continued  in  Rome,  holding  the  administration 
in  his  hands  and  watching  the  action  of  the  Senate. 
Csesar  was  dead.  But  Caesar  still  lived.  "It  was 
not  possible  that  the  grave  should  hold  him."  The 
people  said  that  he  was  a  god,  and  had  gone  back  to 
heaven,  where  his  star  had  been  seen  ascending ;  ^  his 
spirit  remained  on  earth,  and  the  vain  blows  of  the 
assassins  had  been  but  "malicious  mockery."  "  We 
have  killed  the  king,"  exclaimed  Cicero  in  the  bitter- 
ness of  his  disenchantment,  "  but  the  kingdom  is  with 
Uc  still; "  "  we  have  taken  away  the  tyrant ;  the  tyr- 

^  **  ^n  deorum  numerum  relatus  est  uon  ore  modo  decernentium  sed  et 
pefsuaiuone  vulgi."  —  Suetonius. 


Fruitlessness  of  the  Murder.  525 

anny  survives."  Caesar  had  not  overthrown  the  oli- 
garchy ;  their  own  incapacity,  their  own  selfishness, 
their  own  baseness,  had  overthrown  them.  Caasar 
had  been  but  the  reluctant  instrument  of  the  power 
which  metes  out  to  men  the  inevitable  penalties  of 
their  own  misdeeds.  They  had  dreamt  that  the  con- 
stitution was  a  living  force  which  would  revive  of  it- 
self as  soon  as  its  enemy  was  gone.  They  did  not 
know  that  it  was  dead  already,  and  that  they  had 
themselves  destroyed  it.  The  constitution  was  but 
an  agreement  by  which  the  Roman  people  had  con- 
sented to  abide  for  their  common  good.  It  had  ceased 
to  be  for  the  common  good.  The  experience  of  fifty 
miserable  years  had  proved  that  it  meant  the  suprem- 
acy of  the  rich,  maintained  by  the  bought  votes  of 
demoralized  electors.  The  soil  of  Italy,  the  industry 
and  happiness  of  tens  of  millions  of  mankind,  from 
the  Rhine  to  the  Euphrates,  had  been  the  spoil  of 
five  hundred  families  and  their  relatives  and  depend- 
ents, of  men  whose  occupation  was  luxury,  and  whose 
appetites  were  for  monstrous  pleasures.  The  self- 
respect  of  reasonable  men  could  no  longer  tolerate 
Buch  a  rule  in  Italy  or  out  of  it.  In  killing  Caesar 
the  Opti mates  had  been  as  foolish  as  they  were  treach- 
erous ;  for  Caesar's  efforts  had  been  to  reform  the  con- 
stitution, not  to  abolish  it.  The  Civil  War  had  risen 
from  their  dread  of  his  second  consulship,  which  they 
had  feared  would  make  an  end  of  their  corruptions ; 
and  that  the  constitution  should  be  purged  of  the 
poison  in  its  veins  was  the  sole  condition  on  which  its 
continuance  was  possible.  The  obstinacy,  the  feroc- 
ity, the  treachery  of  the  aristocracy,  had  compelled 
Caesar  to  crush  them  ;  and  the  more  desperate  their 
struggles   the   more   absolute  the  necessity  became. 


626  CcBsar. 

But  he  alone  could  have  restored  as  much  of  popular 
liberty  as  was  consistent  vvitli  the  responsibilities  of 
such  a  government  as  the  Empire  required.  In  Csesar 
alone  were  combined  the  intellect  and  the  power  nec- 
essary for  such  a  work ;  and  they  had  killed  him,  and 
in  doing  so  had  passed  final  sentence  on  themselves. 
Not  as  realities  any  more,  but  as  harmless  phantoms, 
the  forms  of  the  old  Republic  were  henceforth  to  per- 
sist. In  the  army  only  remained  the  Imperial  con- 
sciousness of  the  honor  and  duty  of  Roman  citizens. 
To  the  army,  therefore,  the  rule  was  transferred. 
The  Roman  nation  had  grown  as  the  oak  grows,  self- 
developed  in  severe  morality,  each  citizen  a  law  to 
himself,  and  therefore  capable  of  political  freedom  in 
an  unexampled  degree.  All  organizations  destined  to 
endure  spring  from  forces  inherent  in  themselves,  and 
must  grow  freely,  or  they  will  not  grow  at  all.  When 
the  tree  reaches  maturity,  decay  sets  in ;  if  it  be  left 
standing,  the  disintegration  of  the  fibre  goes  swiftly 
forward ;  if  the  stem  is  severed  from  the  root,  the  de- 
stroying power  is  arrested,  and  the  timber  will  endure 
a  thousand  years.  So  it  was  with  Rome.  The  con- 
stitution under  which  the  Empire  had  sprung  up  was 
poisoned,  and  was  brought  to  a  violent  end  before  it 
had  affected  materially  for  evil  the  masses  of  the  peo- 
ple. The  sohd  structure  was  preserved  —  not  to 
grow  any  lOnger,  not  to  produce  a  new  Camillus  or  a 
new  Regulus,  a  new  Scipio  Africanus  or  a  new  Tibe- 
rius (hacchus,  but  to  form  an  endurable  shelter  for 
civilized  mankind,  until  a  fresh,  sjnritual  life  was  de- 
veloped out  of  Palestine  to  remodel  the  conscience  of 
humanity. 

A  gleam  of  hope  opened  to  Cicero  in  the  summer. 
Octavius,  who   was   in  Greece  at   the  time  of   the 


Odavius  and  Antony.  527 

murder,  came  to  Rome  to  claim  bis  inlieritance.  He 
was  but  eigbteeii,  too  young  for  tbe  burden  which 
was  thrown  upon  him  ;  and  being  unknown,  he  had 
the  confidence  of  the  legions  to  win.  The  army,  dis- 
persed over  thei  provinces,  had  as  yet  no  collective 
purpose.  Antony,  it  is  possible,  was  jealous  of  him, 
and  looked  on  himself  as  Caesar's  true  representative 
and  avenger.  Octavius,  finding  Antony  hostile,  or 
at  least  indifferent  to  his  claims,  played  with  the 
Senate  with  cool  foresight  till  he  felt  the  ground  firm 
under  his  feet.  Cicero  boasted  that  he  would  use 
Octavius  to  ruin  Antony,  and  would  throw  him  over 
Avhen  he  had  served  his  purpose.  ''  Cicero  will 
learn,"  Octavius  said,  when  the  words  were  reported 
to  him,  "  that  I  shall  not  be  played  with  so  easily." 

For  a  year  the  confusion  lasted ;  two  of  Csesar's 
officers,  Hirtius  and  Pausa,  were  chosen  b.  g.44- 
consuls  by  the  senatorial  party,  to  please  ^• 
the  legions;  and  Antony  contended  dubiously  with 
them  and  Decimus  Brutus  for  some  months  in  the 
North  of  Italy.  But  Antony  joined  Lepidus,  and 
the  Gallic  legions  with  judicial  fitness  brought  Cic- 
ero's dreams  to  the  ground.  Cicero's  friend.  Plan- 
cus,  who  commanded  in  Normandy  and  Belgium,  at-- 
tempted  a  faint  resistance,  but  was  made  to  yield  to 
the  resolution  of  his  troops.  Octavius  and  Antony 
came  to  an  understanding ;  and  CaBsar's  two  gener- 
als, who  were  true  to  his  memory,  and  Octavius,  who 
was  the  heir  of  his  name,  crossed  the  Alps,  at  the 
liead  of  the  united  army  of  Gaul,  to  punish  the  mur- 
der and  restore  peace  to  the  world.  No  resistance 
was  possible.  Many  of  the  senators,  like  Cicero, 
though  they  had  borne  no  part  in  the  assassination, 
had  taken  the  guilt  of  it  upon  themselves  by  the  en- 


528  ^  Ccesar, 

thusiasm  of  their  approval.  They  were  all  men  who 
had  sworn  fidelity  to  Caesar,  and  had  been  ostenta- 
tious in  their  profession  of  devotion  to  him.  It  had 
become  too  plain  that  from  such  persons  no  repent- 
ance was  to  be  looked  for.  They  were  impelled  by 
a  malice  or  a  fanaticism  which  clemency  could  not 
touch  or  reason  influence.  So  long  as  they  lived  they 
w(juld  still  conspire ;  and  any  weapons,  either  of 
open  war  or  secret  treachery,  would  seem  justifiable 
to  them  in  the  cause  which  they  regarded  as  sacred. 
Cagsar  himself  would,  no  doubt,  have  again  pardoned 
them.  Octavius,  Antony,  and  Lepidus  were  men  of 
more  common  mould.  The  murderers  of  Caesar,  and 
those  who  had  either  instigated  them  secretly  or  ap- 
plauded them  afterwards,  were  included  in  a  pro- 
scription list,  drawn  by  retributive  justice  on  the 
model  of  Sylla's.  Such  of  them  as  were  in  Italy 
were  immediately  killed.  Those  in  the  provinces,  as 
if  with  the  curse  of  Cain  upon  their  heads, 
came  one  by  one  to  miserable  ends.  Bru- 
tus and  Cassius  fought  hard  and  fell  at  Philippi.  In 
three  years  the  tyrannicides  of  the  Ides  of  March, 
with  their  aiders  and  abettors,  were  all  dead,  some 
killed  in  battle,  some  in  prison,  some  dying  by  their 
own  hand  —  slain  with  the  daggers  with  which  they 
had  stabbed  their  master. 

Out  of  the  whole  party  the  fate  of  one  only  de- 
serves special  notice,  a  man  whose  splendid  talents 
have  bought  forgiveness  for  his  faults,  and  have  given 
him  a  place  in  the  small  circle  of  the  really  great 
whose  memor}^  is  not  allowed  to  die. 

After  the  dispersion  of  the  conspirators  which  fol- 
lowed Caesar's  funeral,  Cicero  had  remained  in  Rome. 
His  timidity  seemed  to  have,  forsaken  him,  and  he 


Fate  of  Cicero.  529 

had  striven,  with  an  energy  which  recalled  his  bright- 
est days,  to  set  the  constitution  again  upon  its  feet, 
Antony  charged  him  in  the  Senate  with  having  been 
the  contriver  of  Caesar's  death.  He  replied  with  in- 
vectives fierce  and  scurrilous  as  those  which  he  had 
heaped  upon  Catiline  and  Clodius.  A  time  had  been 
when  he  had  affected  to  look  on  Antony  as  his  pre- 
server. Now  there  was  no  imaginable  infamy  in 
which  he  did  not  steep  his  name.  He  spoke  of  the 
murder  as  the  most  splendid  achievement  recorded  in 
history,  and  he  regretted  only  that  he  had  not  been 
taken  into  counsel  by  the  deliverers  of  their  country. 
Antony  would  not  then  have  been  alive  to  rekindle 
civil  discord.  When  Antony  left  Rome,  Cicero  was 
for  a  few  months  again  the  head  of  the  State.  He 
ruled  the  Senate,  controlled  the  Treasury,  corre- 
sponded with  the  conspirators  in  the  provinces,  and 
advised  their  movements.  He  continued  sanguine 
himself,  and  he  poured  spirit  into  others.  No  one 
can  refuse  admiration  to  the  last  blaze  of  his  expiring 
powers.  But  when  he  heard  that  Antony  December  7 
and  Lepidus  and  Octavius  had  united,  and  ^'  ^'  ^' 
were  coming  into  Italy  with  the  whole  Western  army, 
he  saw  that  all  was  over.  He  was  now  sixty-three — 
too  old  for  hope.  He  could  hardly  have  wished  to 
live,  and  this  time  he  was  well  assured  that  there 
would  be  no  mercy  for  him.  Caesar  would  have 
spared  a  man  whom  he  esteemed  in  spite  of  his  in- 
firmities. But  there  was  no  Caesar  now,  and  fair 
speeches  would  serve  his  turn  no  longer.  He  retired 
from  the  city  with  his  brother  Quintus,  and  had  some 
half-formed  purpose  of  flying  to  Brutus,  who  was  still 
in  arms  in  Macedonia.  He  even  embarked,  but  with- 
out a  settled  resolution,  and  he  allowed  himself  to  be 

34 


580  Cmar. 

driven  back  by  a  storm.  Theatrical  even  in  extremi 
ties,  he  thought  of  returning  to  Rome  and  of  killing 
himself  in  Cesar's  house,  that  he  might  bring  the 
curse  of  his  blood  upon  Octavius.  In  these  uncertain- 
ties he  drifted  into  his  own  villa  at  Formiae,^  saying 
in  weariness,  and  with  a  sad  note  of  his  old  self-im- 
portance, that  he  would  die  in  the  country  which  he 
had  so  often  saved.  Here,  on  the  4th  of  December, 
B.  C.  43,  Popilius  Loenas,  an  officer  of  Antony's  came 
to  find  him.  Peasants  from  the  neighborhood  brought 
news  to  the  villa  that  the  soldiers  v/ere  approaching. 
His  servants  thrust  him  into  a  litter  and  carried  him 
down  through  the  woods  towards  the  sea.  Loenas 
followed  and  overtook  him.  To  his  slaves  he  had 
been  always  the  gentlest  of  masters.  They  would 
have  given  their  lives  in  his  defence  if  he  would  have 
allowed  them  ;  but  he  bade  them  set  the  litter  down 
and  save  themselves.  He  thrust  out  his  head  between 
the  curtains,  and  it  was  instantly  struck  off. 

So  ended  Cicero,  a  tragic  combination  of  magnifi- 
cent talents,  high  aspirations,  and  true  desire  to  do 
right,  with  an  infirmity  of  purpose  and  a  latent  insin- 
cerity of  character  which  neutralized  and  could  almost 
make  us  forget  his  nobler  qualities.  It  cannot  be 
said  of  Cicero  that  he  was  blind  to  the  faults  of  the 
party  to  which  he  attached  himself.  To  him  we  owe 
our  knowledge  of  what  the  Roman  aristocrats  really 
were,  and  of  the  hopelessness  of  expecting  that  they 
could  have  been  trusted  any  longer  with  the  adminis- 
tration of  the  Empire,  if  the  Empire  itself  was  to  en- 
dure. Cicero's  natural  place  was  at  Caesar's  side; 
but  to  CuBsar  alone  of  his  contemporaries  he  was  con- 
scious of  an  inferiority  which  was  intolerable  to  him. 

1  Near  Gaeta. 


Character  of  Cicero.  531 

In  his  own  eyes  he  was  always  the  first  person.  He 
had  been  made  unhappy  by  the  thouglit  that  posterity 
might  rate  Pompey  above  himself.  Closer  acquaint- 
ance had  reassured  him  about  Pompey,  but  in  Ccesar 
he  was  conscious  of  a  higher  presence,  and  he  rebelled 
against  the  humiliating  acknowledgment.  Supreme 
as  an  orator  he  could  always  be,  and  an  order  of  things 
was,  therefore,  most  desirable  where  oratory  held  the 
highest  place.  Thus  he  chose  his  part  with  the 
"  Jom,"  whom  he  despised  while  he  supported  them, 
drifting  on  through  vacillation  into  treachery,  till 
"  the  ingredients  of  the  poisoned  chalice  "  were  "  com- 
mended to  his  own  hps." 

In  Cicero  Nature  half-made  a  great  man  and  left 
him  uncompleted.  Our  charjicters  are  written  in  our 
forms,  and  the  bust  of  Cicero  is  the  key  to  his  his- 
tory. The  brow  is  broad  and  strong,  the  nose  large, 
the  lips  tightly  compressed,  the  features  lean  and 
keen  from  restless  intellectual  energy.  The  loose 
bending  figure,  the  neck,  too  weak  for  the  weight  of 
the  head,  explain  the  infirmity  of  will,  the  passion, 
the  cunning,  the  vanity,  the  absence  of  manliness  and 
veracity.  He  was  born  into  an  age  of  violence  with 
which  he  was  too  feeble  to  contend.  The  gratitude 
of  mankind  for  his  literary  excellence  will  forever 
preserve  his  memory  from  too  harsh  a  judgment. 


CHAPTER  XXVIII. 

It  remains  to  offer  a  few  general  remarks  on  the 
person  whose  life  and  actions  I  have  endeavored  to 
describe  in  the  preceding  pages. 

In  all  conditions  of  human  society,  distinguished 
men  are  the  subjects  of  legend  ;  but  the  character  of 
the  legend  varies  with  the  disposition  of  the  time. 
In  ages  which  we  call  heroic  the  saint  works  miracles, 
the  warrior  performs  exploits  beyond  the  strength 
of  natural  man.  In  ages  less  visionary  which  are 
given  to  ease  and  enjoyment  the  tendency  is  to  bring 
a  great  man  down  to  the  common  level,  and  to  dis- 
cover or  invent  faults  which  shall  show  that  he  is  or 
was  but  a  little  man  after  all.  Our  vanity  is  soothed 
by  evidence  that  those  who  have  eclipsed  us  in  the 
race  of  life  are  no  better  than  ourselves,  or»in  some 
respects  are  worse  than  ourselves ;  and  if  to  these 
general  impulses  be  added  political  or  personal  an- 
imosity, accusations  of  depravity  are  circulated  as 
surely  about  such  men,  and  are  credited  as  readily, 
as  under  other  influences  are  the  marvellous  achieve- 
ments of  a  Cid  or  a  St.  Francis.  In  the  present  day 
we  reject  miracles  and  prodigies,  we  are  on  our  guard 
against  the  mythology  of  hero  worship,  just  as  we 
disbelieve  in  the  eminent  superiority  of  any  one  of 
our  contemporaries  to  another.  We  look  less  curi- 
ously into  the  mythology  of  scandal,  we  accept  easily 
and  willingly  stories  disparaging  to  illustrious  per- 
sons in   histor}^,  because  similar  stories  are  told  and 


Mythology  of  Scandal,  533 

retold  with  so  much  confidence  and  fluency  among 
the  political  adversaries  of  those  who  have  the  mis- 
fortune to  be  their  successful  rivals.  The  absurdity 
of  a  calumny  may  be  as  evident  as  the  absurdity  of 
a  miracle;  the  ground  for  belief  may  be  no  more 
than  a  lightness  of  mind,  and  a  less  pardonable  wish 
that  it  may  be  true.  But  the  idle  tale  floats  in  so- 
ciety, and  by  and  by  is  written  down  in  books  and 
passes  into  the  region  of  established  realities. 

The  tendency  to  idolize  great  men  and  the  ten- 
dency to  depreciate  them  arises  alike  in  emotion  ;  but 
the  slanders  of  disparagement  are  as  truly  legends  as 
the  wonder-tales  of  saints  and  warriors ;  and  anec- 
dotes related  of  Csesar  at  patrician  dinner-parties  at 
Rome  as  little  deserve  attention  as  the  information  so 
freely  given  upon  the  habits  of  modern  statesmen  in 
the  salons  of  London  and  Paris.  They  are  read  now 
by  us  in  classic  Latin,  but  they  were  recorded  by  men 
who  hated  Caesar  and  hated  all  that  he  had  done 
and  that  a  poem  has  survived  for  two  thousand  years 
is  no  evidence  that  the  author  of  it,  even  though  he 
might  be  a  Catullus,  was  uninfluenced  by  the  com- 
mon passions  of  humanity. 

Csesar,  it  is  allowed,  had  extraordinary  talents,  ex- 
traordinary energy,  and  some  commendable  qualities; 
but  he  was,  as  the  elder  Curio  said,  *'  omnium  mulie- 
rum  vir  et  omnium  virorum  mulier ; "  he  had  mis- 
tresses in  every  country  which  he  visited,  and  he  had 
liaisons  with  half  the  ladies  in  Rome.  That  Caesar's 
morality  was  altogether  superior  to  that  of  the  aver- 
age of  his  contemporaries  is  in  a  high  degree  improba- 
ble. He  was  a  man  of  the  world,  peculiarly  attract- 
ive to  women,  and  likely  to  have  been  attracted  by 
them.      On   the  other  hand,   the    undiscriminating 


634  Gcesar. 

looseness  attributed  to  him  would  have  been  pecul- 
iarly degrading  in  a  man  whose  passions  were  so 
eminently  under  control,  whose  calmness  was  never 
known  to  be  discomposed,  and  who,  in  everything 
which  he  did,  acted  always  with  deliberate  will.  Still 
worse  would  it  be  if,  by  his  example,  he  made  ridicu- 
lous fcjs  own  laws  against  adultery  and  indulged  him- 
self in  vices  which  he  punished  in  others.  What, 
then,  is  the  evidence  ?  The  story  of  Nicomedes  may 
be  passed  over.  All  that  is  required  on  that  subject 
has  been  already  said.  It  was  never  heard  of  before 
Ceesar's  consulship,  and  the  proofs  are  no  more  than 
the  libels  of  Bibulus,  the  satire  of  Catullus,  and  cer- 
tain letters  of  Cicero's  which  were  never  published, 
but  were  circulated  privately  in  Roman  aristocratic 
society.^  A  story  is  suspicious  which  is  first  produced 
after  twenty  years  in  a  moment  of  political  excite- 
ment. Caesar  spoke  of  it  with  stern  disgust.  He 
replied  to  Catullus  with  an  invitation  to  dinner; 
otherwise  he  passed  it  over  in  silence  —  the  only  an- 
swer which  an  honorable  man  could  give.  Suetonius 
quotes  a  loose  song  sung  by  Caesar's  soldiers  at  his 
triumph.  We  know  in  what  terms  British  sailors 
often  speak  of  their  favorite  commanders.  Afiiection, 
when  it  expresses  itself  most  emphatically,  borrows 
the  language  of  its  opposites.  Who  would  dream  of 
introducing  into  a  serious  life  of  Nelson  catches 
chanted  in  the  forcastle  of  the  Victory  ?  But  which 
cf  the  soldiers  sang  these  verses?  Does  Suetonius 
mean  that  the  army  sang  them  in  chorus  as  they 
marched  in  procession  ?  The  very  notion  is  prepos- 
terous. It  is  proved  that  during  Caesar's  lifetime 
scandal  was  busy  with  his  name  ;   and  that  it  would 

1  Suetonius,  Julius  Ccesar^  49. 


Ccesar's  Relations  with  Women.  635 

be  so  busy,  whether  justified  or  not,  is  certain  from 
the  nature  of  things.  Cicero  says  that  no  public  man 
in  Rome  escaped  from  such  imputations.  He  him- 
self flung  them  broadcast,  and  they  were  equally  re- 
turned upon  himself.  The  surprise  is  rather  that 
Csesar's  name  should  have  suffered  so  little,  and  that 
he  should  have  been  admitted  on  reflection  by  Sueto- 
nius to  have  been  comparatively  free  from  the  abomi- 
nable form  of  vice  which  was  then  so  common. 

As  to  his  liaiso7is  with  women,  the  handsome,  brill- 
iant Caesar,  surrounded  by  a  halo  of  military  glory, 
must  have  been  a  Paladin  of  romance  to  any  woman 
who  had  a  capacity  of  admiration  in  her.  His  own 
distaste  for  gluttony  and  hard  drinking,  and  for  the 
savage  amusements  in  which  the  male  Romans  so 
much  delighted,  may  have  made  the  society  of  cul- 
tivated ladies  more  agreeable  to  him  than  that  of 
men,  and  if  he  showed  any  such  preference  the 
coarsest  interpretation  would  be  inevitably  placed 
upon  it.  These  relations,  perhaps,  in  so  loose  an  age 
assumed  occasionally  a  more  intimate  form  ;  but  it  is 
to  be  observed  that  the  first  public  act  recorded  of 
Caesar  was  his  refusal  to  divorce  his  wife  at  S^dla's 
bidding ;  that  he  was  passionately  attached  to  his 
sister  ;  and  that  his  mother,  Aurelia,  lived  with  him 
till  she  died,  and  that  this  mother  was  a  Roman  ma- 
tron of  the  strictest  and  severest  type.  Many  names 
were  mentioned  in  connection  with  him,  yet  there  is 
no  record  of  any  natural  child  save  Brutus,  and  one 
other  whose  claims  were  denied  and  disproved. 

Two  intrigues,  it  may  be  said,  are  beyond  dispute. 
His  connection  with  the  mother  of  Brutus  was  noto- 
rious. Cleopatra,  in  spite  of  Oppius,  was  living  with 
him  in  his  house  at  the  time  of  his  murder.     That  it 


636  Ccesar, 

was  so  believed  a  hundred  years  after  his  death  is,  of 
course,  indisputable ;  but  in  both  these  cases  the 
story  is  entangled  with  legends  which  show  how 
busily  imagination  had  been  at  work.  Brutus  was 
said  to  be  Caesar's  son,  though  Cassar  was  but  fifteen 
when  he  was  born ;  and  Brutus,  though  he  had  the 
temper  of  an  Orestes,  was  devotedly  attached  to  his 
mother  in  spite  of  the  supposed  adultery,  and  pro- 
fessed to  have  loved  Caesar  when  he  offered  him  as  a 
sacrifice  to  his  country's  liberty.  Cleopatra  is  said  to 
have  joined  Caesar  at  Rome  after  his  return  from 
Spain,  and  to  have  resided  openly  with  him  as  his 
mistress.  Supposing  that  she  did  come  to  Rome,  it 
is  still  certain  that  Calpurnia  was  in  Caesar's  house 
when  he  was  killed.  Cleopatra  must  have  been  Cal- 
purnia's  guest  as  well  as  her  husband's  ;  and  her  pres- 
ence, however  commented  upon  in  society,  could  not 
possibly  have  borne  the  avowed  complexion  which 
tradition  assigned  to  it.  On  the  other  hand,  it  is 
quite  intelligible  that  the  young  Queen  of  Egypt, 
who  owed  her  position  to  Caesar,  might  have  come, 
as  other  princes  came,  on  a  visit  of  courtesy,  and  that 
Csesar  after  their  acquaintance  at  Alexandria  should 
have  invited  her  to  stay  with  him.  But  was  Cleo- 
patra at  Rome  at  all  ?  The  only  real  evidence  for 
her  presence  there  is  to  be  found  in  a  few  words  of 
Cicero :  " Reginse  fuga  mihi  non  molesta."  —  "I  am 
not  sorry  to  hear  of  the  flight  of  the  queen."  ^  There 
is  nothing  to  show  that  the  "queen"  was  the  Egyp- 
tian queen.  Granting  that  the  word  Egyptian  is  to 
be  understood,  Cicero  may  have  referred  to  Arsinoe, 
who  was  called  Queen  as  well  as  her  sister,  and  had 
been  sent  to  Rome  to  be  shown  at  Caesar's  triumph. 

1  To  Alticut,  xiv.  8. 


Personal  Appearance,  537- 

But  enouorh  and  too  much  on  this  miserable  sub- 
ject.  Men  will  continue  to  form  their  opinions  about 
it,  not  upon  the  evidence,  but  according  to  their  pre- 
conceived notions  of  what  is  probable  or  improbable. 
Ages  of  progress  and  equality  are  as  credulous  of  evil 
as  ages  of  faith  are  credulous  of  good,  and  reason 
will  not  modify  convictions  which  do  not  originate  iu 
reason. 

Let  us  pass  on  to  surer  ground. 

In  person  Caesar  was  tall  and  slight.  His  features 
were  more  refined  than  was  usual  in  Roman  faces ; 
the  forehead  was  wide  and  high,  the  nose  large  and 
thin,  the  lips  full,  the  eyes  dark  gray  like  an  eagle's, 
the  neck  extremely  thick  and  sinewy.  His  com- 
plexion  was  pale.  His  beard  and  moustache  were 
kept  carefully  shaved.  His  hair  was  short  and  natu- 
rally scanty,  falling  off  towards  the  end  of  his  life 
and  leaving  him  partially  bald.  His  voice,  especially 
when  he  spoke  in  public,  was  high  and  shrill.  His 
health  was  uniformly  strong  until  his  last  year,  when 
he  became  subject  to  epileptic  fits.  He  was  a  great 
bather,  and  scrupulously  clean  in  all  his  habits,  ab- 
stemious in  his  food,  and  careless  in  what  it  consisted, 
rarely  or  never  touching  wine,  and  noting  sobriety  as 
the  highest  of  qualities  when  describing  any  new 
people.  He  was  an  athlete  in  early  life,  admirable 
in  all  manly  exercises,  and  especially  in  riding.  In 
Gaul,  as  has  been  said  already,  he  rode  a  remarkable 
horse,  which  he  had  bred  himself,  and  which  would 
*et  no  one  but  Caesar  mount  him.  From  his  boy- 
hood it  was  observed  of  him  that  he  was  the  truest 
of  friends,  that  he  avoided  quarrels,  and  was  most 
easily  appeased  when  offended.  In  manner  he  was 
quiet  and  gentlemanlike,  with  the  natural  courtesy 


538  Coeaar. 

of  high  breeding.  On  an  occasion  when  he  was  din- 
ing  somewhere  the  other  guests  found  the  oil  too 
rancid  for  them.  Csesar  took  it  without  remark,  to 
spare  his  entertainer's  feelings.  When  on  a  journey 
through'a  forest  with  his  friend  Oppius,  he  came  one 
night  to  a  hut  where  there  was  a  single  bed.  Oppius 
being  unwell,  Caesar  gave  it  up  to  him,  and  slept  on 
the  ground. 

In  his  public  character  he  may  be  regarded  under 
three  aspects,  as  a  politician,  a  soldier,  and  a  man  of 
letters. 

Like  Cicero,  Caesar  entered  public  life  at  the  bar. 
He  belonged  by  birth  to  the  popular  party,  but  he 
showed  no  disposition,  like  the  Gracchi,  to  plunge 
into  political  agitation.  His  aims  were  practical. 
He  made  war  only  upon  injustice  and  oppression ; 
and  when  he  commenced  as  a  pleader  he  was  noted 
for  the  energy  with  which  he  protected  a  client  whom 
he  believed  to  have  been  wronged.  At  a  later  period, 
before  he  was  praetor,  he  was  engaged  in  defending 
Masintha,  a  young  Numidian  prince,  who  had  suffered 
some  injury  from  Hiempsal,  the  father  of  Juba.  Juba 
himself  came  to  Rome  on  the  occasion,  bringing  with 
him  the  means  of  influencing  the  judges  which  Ju- 
gurtha  had  found  so  effective.  Caesar  in  his  indigna- 
tion seized  Juba  by  the  beard  in  the  court ;  and  when 
Masintha  was  sentenced  to  some  unjust  penalty  Cse- 
sar carried  him  off,  concealed  him  in  his  house,  and 
took  him  to  Spain  in  his  carriage.  When  he  rose 
into  the  Senate,  his  powers  as  a  speaker  became  strik- 
ingly remarkable.  Cicero,  who  often  heard  him,  and 
was  not  a  fayorable  judge,  said  that  there  was  a  preg- 
nancy in  his  sentences  and  a  dignity  in  his  manner 
which  no  orator  in  Rome  could  approach.     But  he 


Ccesar  as  a  Statesman.  639 

never  spoke  to  court  popularity ;  his  aim  from  first 
to  last  was  better  government,  the  prevention  of 
bribery  and  extortion,  and  the  distribution  among 
deserving  citizens  of  some  portion  of  the  public  land 
which  the  rich  were  stealing.  The  Julian  laws,  which 
excited  the  indignation  of  the  aristocracy,  had  no 
other  objects  than  these  ;  and  had  they  been  observed 
they  would  have  saved  the  constitution.  The  obsti- 
nacy of  faction  and  the  civil  war  which  grew  out  of  it 
obliged  him  to  extend  his  horizon,  to  contemplate 
more  radical  reforms  —  a  large  extension  of  the  privi- 
leges of  citizenship,  with  the  introduction  of  the  pro- 
vincial nobility  into  the  Senate,  and  the  transfer  of 
the  administration  from  the  Senate  and  annually 
elected  magistrates  to  the  permanent  chief  of  the 
army.  But  his  objects  throughout  were  purely  prac- 
tical. The  purpose  of  government  he  conceived  to 
be  the  execution  of  justice ;  and  a  constitutional  lib- 
erty under  which  justice  was  made  impossible  did  not 
appear  to  him  to  be  liberty  at  all. 

The  practicality  which  showed  itself  in  his  general 
aims  appeared  also  in  his  mode  of  working.  Caesar, 
it  was  observed,  when  anything  was  to  be  done,  se- 
lected the  man  who  was  best  able  to  do  it,  not  caring 
particularly  who  or  what  he  might  be  in  other  re- 
spects. To  this  faculty  of  discerning  and  choosing 
fit  persons  to  execute  his  orders  may  be  ascribed  the 
extraordinary  success  of  his  own  provincial  adminis- 
tration, the  enthusiasm  which  was  felt  for  him  in  the 
North  of  Italy,  and  the  perfect  quiet  of  Gaul  after 
the  completion  of  the  conquest.  Caesar  did  not  crush 
the  Gauls  under  the  weight  of  Italy.  He  took  the 
best  of  them  into  the  Roman  service,  promoted  them, 
led  them  to  associate  the  interests  of  the  Empire  with 


540  Ccesar. 

their  personal  advancement  and  the  prosperity  of 
their  own  people.  No  act  of  Caesar's  showed  more 
sagacity  than  the  introduction  of  Gallic  nobles  into 
the  Senate;  none  was  more  bitter  to  the  Scipios  and 
Metelli,  who  were  compelled  to  share  their  august 
privileges  with  these  despised  barbarians. 

It  was  by  accident  that  Caesar  took  up  the  profes- 
sion of  a  soldier ;  yet  perhaps  no  commander  who 
ever  lived  showed  greater  military  genius.  The  con- 
quest of  Gaul  was  effected  by  a  force  numerically 
insignificant,  which  was  worked  with  the  precision  of 
a  machine.  The  variety  of  uses  to  which  it  was  ca- 
pable of  being  turned  implied,  in  the  first  place,  ex- 
traordinary forethought  in  the  selection  of  materials. 
Men  whose  nominal  duty  was  merely  to  fight  were 
engineers,  architects,  mechanics  of  the  highest  order. 
In  a  few  hours  they  could  extemporize  an  impregna- 
ble fortress  on  an  open  hillside.  They  bridged  the 
Rhine  in  a  week.  They  built  a  fleet  in  a  month. 
The  legions  at  Alesia  held  twice  their  number  pinned 
within  their  works,  while  they  kept  at  bay  the  whole 
force  of  insurgent  Gaul,  entirely  by  scientific  supe- 
riority. The  machine,  which  was  thus  perfect,  was 
composed  of  human  beings  who  required  supplies  of 
tools,  and  arms,  and  clothes,  and  food,  and  shelter, 
and  for  all  these  it  depended  on  the  forethought  of  its 
commander.  Maps  there  were  none.  Countries  en- 
tirely unknown  had  to  be  surveyed  ;  routes  had  to  be 
laid  out ;  the  depths  and  courses  of  rivers,  the  char- 
acter of  mountain  passes,  had  all  to  be  ascertained. 
Allies  had  to  be  found  among  tribes  as  yet  unheard 
of.  Countless  contingent  difficulties  had  to  be  pro- 
vided for,  many  of  which  must  necessarily  arise, 
♦  *  ough  the  exact  nature  of  them  could  not  be  antici- 


Ccesar  as  a  Soldier.  641 

pated.  When  room  for  accidents  is  left  open,  acci- 
dents do  not  fail  to  be  heard  of.  But  Caesar  was 
never  defeated  when  personally  present,  save  once  at 
Gergovia,  and  once  at  Durazzo ;  and  the  failure  at 
Gergovia  was  caused  by  the  revolt  of  the  ^dui ;  and 
the  manner  in  which  the  failure  at  Durazzo  was  re- 
trieved showed  Caesar's  greatness  more  than  the  most 
brilliant  of  his  victories.  He  was  rash,  but  with  a 
calculated  rashness,  which  the  event  never  failed  to 
justify.  His  greatest  successes  were  due  to  the  ra- 
pidity of  his  movements,  which  brought  him  on  the 
enemy  before  they  heard  of  his  approach.  He  trav- 
elled sometimes  a  hundred  miles  a  day,  reading  or 
writing  in  his  carriage,  through  countries  without 
/oads,  and  crossing  rivers  without  bridges.  No  ob- 
stacles stopped  him  when  he  had  a  definite  end  in 
view.  In  battle  he  sometimes  rode ;  but  he  was 
more  often  on  foot,  bareheaded,  and  in  a  conspicuous 
dress,  that  he  might  be  seen  and  recognized.  Again 
and  again  by  his  own  efforts  he  recovered  a  day  that 
was  half  lost.  He  once  seized  a  panic-stricken  stand- 
ard-bearer, turned  him  rounds  and  told  him  that  he 
had  mistaken  the  direction  of  the  enemy.  He  never 
misled  his  army  as  to  an  enemy's  strength,  or  if  he 
misstated  their  numbers  it  was  onl}^  to  exaggerate. 
In  Africa,  before  Thapsus,  when  his  officers  were  ner- 
vous at  the  reported  approach  of  Juba,  he  called  them 
together  and  said  briefly,  "  You  will  understand  that 
>,vithin  a  day  King  Juba  will  be  here  with  ten  legions, 
thirty  thousand  horse,  a  hundred  thousand  skirmish- 
ers, and  three  hundred  elephants.  You  are  not  to 
think  or  ask  questions.  I  tell  you  the  truth,  and  you 
must  prepare  for  it.  If  any  of  you  are  alarmed  I 
shall  send  you  home." 


642  Ccesar. 

Yet  he  was  singularly  careful  of  his  soldiers.  He 
allowed  his  legions  rest,  though  he  allowed  none  to 
himself.  He  rarely  fought  a  battle  at  a  disadvan- 
tage. He  never  exposed  his  men  to  unnecessary 
danger,  and  the  loss  by  wear  and  tear  in  the  cam- 
paigns in  Gaul  was  exceptionably  and  even  astonish- 
ingly slight.  When  a  gallant  action  was  .performed, 
he  knew  by  whom  it  had  been  done,  and  every  sol- 
dier, however  humble,  might  feel  assured  that  if  he 
deserved  praise  he  would  have  it.  The  army  was 
Caesar's  family.  When  Sabinus  was  cut  off,  he  al- 
lowed his  beard  to  grow,  and  he  did  not  shave  it  till 
the  disaster  was  avenged.  If  Quintus  Cicero  had 
been  his  own  child,  he  could  not  have  run  greater 
personal  risk  to  save  him  when  shut  up  at  Charleroy. 
In  discipline  he  was  lenient  to  ordinary  faults,  and 
not  careful  to  make  curious  inquiries  into  such  things. 
He  liked  his  men  to  enjoy  themselves.  Military  mis- 
takes in  his  officers  too  he  always  endeavored  to 
excuse,  never  blaming  them  for  misfortunes,  unless 
there  had  been  a  defect  of  courage  as  well  as  judg- 
ment. Mutiny  and  desertion  only  he  never  over- 
looked. And  thus  no  general  was  ever  more  loved 
by,  or  had  greater  power  over,  the  army  which  served 
under  him.  He  brought  the  insurgent  10th  legion 
into  submission  by  a  single  word.  When  the  Civil 
War  began  and  Labienus  left  him,  he  told  all  his 
officers  who  had  served  under  Pompey  that  they 
were  free  to  follow  if  they  wished.  Not  another 
man  forsook  him. 

Suetonius  says  that  he  was  rapacious,  that  he  plun- 
dered tribes  in  Spain  who  were  allies  of  Rome,  that 
he  pillaged  shrines  and  temples  in  Gaul,  and  de- 
stroyed  cities   merely   for   spoil.     He   adds  a  story 


CcBsar  as  a  Soldier.  543 

which  Cicero  would  not  have  left  untold  and  uncom- 
mented  on  if  he  had  been  so  fortunate  as  to  hear  of 
it :  that  Csesar  when  first  consul  took  three  thousand 
pounds  weight  of  gold  out  of  the  Capitol  and  re- 
placed it  with  gilded  brass.  A  similar  story  is  told 
of  the  Cid  and  of  other  heroes  of  fiction.  How  carae 
Cicero  to  be  ignorant  of  an  act  which,  if  done  at  all, 
was  done  under  his  own  eyes  ?  When  praetor  Caesar 
brought  back  money  from  Spain  to  the  treasury ;  but 
he  was  never  charged  at  the  time  with  peculation  or 
oppression  there.  In  Gaul  the  war  paid  its  own  ex- 
penses ;  but  what  temples  were  there  in  Gaul  which 
were  worth  spoiling?  Of  temples  he  was,  indeed, 
scrupulously  careful.  Varro  had  taken  gold  from  the 
Temple  of  Hercules  at  Cadiz.  Caesar  replaced  it. 
Metellus  Scipio  had  threatened  to  plunder  the  Tem- 
ple of  Diana  at  Ephesus.  Caesar  protected  it.  In 
Gaul  the  Druids  were  his  best  friends  ;  therefore  he 
certainly  had  not  outraged  religion  there ;  and  the 
quiet  of  the  province  during  the  Civil  War  is  a  suffi- 
cient answer  to  the  accusation  of  gratuitous  oppres- 
viion. 

The  Gauls  paid  the  expenses  of  their  conquest  in 
the  prisoners  taken  in  battle,  who  were  sold  to  the 
slave  merchants ;  and  this  is  the  real  blot  on  Caesar's 
career.  But  the  blot  was  not  personally  upon  Cae- 
sar, but  upon  the  age  in  which  he  lived.  The  great 
Pomponius  Atticus  himself  was  a  dealer  in  human 
chattels.  That  prisoners  of  war  should  be  sold  as 
slaves  was  the  law  of  the  time,  accepted  alike  by 
victors  and  vanquished ;  and  the  crowds  of  libertini 
who  assisted  at  Caesar's  funeral  proved  that  he  was 
not  regarded  as  the  enemy  of  these  unfortunates,  but 
as  their  special  friend. 


644  Ccesar. 

His  leniency  to  the  Pompeian  faction  has  alieady 
been  spoken  of  sufficiently.  It  may  have  been  pol« 
itic,  but  it  arose  also  from  the  disposition  of  the  man. 
Cruelty  originates  in  fear,  and  Caesar  was  toe  indiffer- 
ent to  death  to  fear  anything.  So  far  as  his  p:  blic 
action  was  concerned,  he  betra^^ed  no  passion  save 
hatred  of  injustice  ;  and  he  moved  through  life  calm 
and  irresistible,  like  a  force  of  nature. 

Cicero  has  said  of  Csesar's  oratory  that  he  surpassed 
those  who  had  practised  no  other  art.  His  praise  of 
him  as  a  man  of  letters  is  yet  more  delicately  and 
gracefully  emphatic.  Most  of  his  writings  are  lost; 
but  there  remain  seven  books  of  commentaries  on  the 
wars  in  Gaul  (the  eighth  was  added  by  another 
hand),  and  three  books  upon  the  Civil  War,  contain- 
ing an  account  of  its  causes  and  history.  Of  these  it 
was  that  Cicero  said,  in  an  admirable  image,  that 
fools  might  think  to  improve  on  them,  but  that  no 
wise  man  would  try  it ;  they  were  nudi  omni  ornatu 
orationis^  tanquam  veste  detractd  —  bare  of  ornament, 
the  dress  of  style  dispensed  with,  like  an  undraped 
human  figure  perfect  in  all  its  lines  as  nature  made 
it.  In  his  composition,  as  in  his  actions,  Caesar  is  en- 
tirely simple.  He  indulges  in  no  images,  no  labored 
descriptions,  no  conventional  reflections.  His  art  is 
unconscious,  as  the  highest  art  always  is.  The  act- 
ual fact  of  things  stands  out  as  it  really  was,  not  aa 
mechanically  photographed,  but  interpreted  by  the 
calmest  intelligence,  and  described  with  unexagger- 
ated  feeling.  No  military  narrative  has  approached 
the  excellence  of  the  history  of  the  war  in  Gaul. 
Nothing  is  written  down  which  could  be  dispensed 
with ;  nothing  important  is  left  untold  ;  while  the  in- 
cidents themselves  are'set  off  by  delicate  and  just  ob. 


Coemr  as  a  Man  of  Letters,  545 

servations  on  human  character.  The  story  is  ren- 
dered attractive  by  complimentary  anecdotes  of  per- 
sons ;  while  details  of  the  character  and  customs  of 
an  unknown  and  remarkable  people  show  the  atten- 
tion which  Csesar  was  always  at  leisure  to  bestow  on 
anything  which  was  worthy  of  interest,  even  when 
he  was  surrounded  with  danger  and  difficult5^  The 
books  on  the  Civil  War  have  the  same  simplicity  and 
clearness,  but  a  vein  runs  through  them  of  strong  if 
subdued  emotion.  They  contain  the  history  of  a 
great  revolution  related  by  the  principal  actor  in  it; 
but  no  effort  can  be  traced  to  set  his  own  side  in  a 
favorable  light,  or  to  abuse  or  depreciate  his  adversa- 
ries. The  coarse  invectives  which  Cicero  poured  so 
freely  upon  those  who  differed  from  him  are  conspic- 
uously absent.  Caesar  does  not  exult  over  his  tri- 
umphs or  parade  the  honesty  of  his  motives.  The 
facts  are  left  to  tell  their  own  story ;  and  the  gallantry 
and  endurance  of  his  own  froops  are  not  related  with 
more  feeling  than  the  contrast  between  the  confident 
hopes  of  the  patrician  leaders  at  Pharsalia  and  the 
luxury  of  their  camp  with  the  overwhelming  disaster 
which  fell  upon  them.  About  himself  and  his  own 
exploits  there  is  not  one  word  of  self-complacency  or 
self-admiration.  In  his  writings,  as  in  his  life,  Caesar 
is  always  the  same  —  direct,  straightforward,  un- 
moved save  by  occasional  tenderness,  describing  with 
unconscious  simplicity  how  the  work  which  had  been 
forced  upon  him  was  accomplished.  He  wrote  with 
extreme  rapidity  in  the  intervals  of  other  labor ;  yet 
there  is  not  a  word  misplaced,  not  a  sign  of  haste  any- 
where, save  that  the  conclusion  of  the  Gallic  war  was 
^ft  to  be  supplied  by  a  weaker  hand.  The  Commen- 
viries,  as  an  historical  narrative,  are  as  far  superior  to 


646  Ccesar, 

any  other  Latin  composition  of  the  kind  as  the  person 
of  Caesar  himself  stands  out  among  the  rest  of  his  con- 
temporaries. 

His  other  compositions  have  perished,  in  conse- 
quence, perhaps,  of  the  unforgiving  republican  senti- 
ment ^hich  revived  among  men  of  letters  after  the 
death  of  Augustus  —  which  rose  to  a  height  in  tho 
"  Pharsalia  "  of  Lucan  —  and  which  leaves  so  visible 
a  mark  in  the  writings  of  Tacitus  and  Suetonius. 
There  was  a  book,  "De  Analogic,"  written  by  Csesar 
after  the  conferonce  at  Lucca,  during  the  passage  of 
the  Alps.  There  was  a  book  on  the  Auspices,  which, 
coming  from  the  head  of  the  Roman  religion,  would 
have  thrown  a  light  much  to  be  desired  on  this  curi- 
ous subject.  In  practice  Caesar  treated  the  auguries 
with  contempt.  He  carried  his  laws  in  open  disre- 
gard of  them.  He  fought  his  battles  careless  whether 
the  sacred  chickens  would  eat  or  the  calves'  livers 
were  of  the  proper  color.  His  own  account  of  such 
things  in  his  capacity  of  Pontifex  would  have  had  a 
singular  interest. 

From  the  time  of  his  boyhood  he  kept  a  common- 
place book,  in  which  he  entered  down  any  valuable 
or  witty  sayings,  inquiring  carefully,  as  Cicero  takes 
pains  to  tell  us,  after  any  smart  observation  of  his 
own.  Niebuhr  remarks  that  no  pointed  sentences  of 
Caesar's  can  have  come  down  to  us.  Perhaps  he  had 
no  gift  that  way,  and  admired  in  others  what  he  did 
not  possess. 

He  left  in  verse  "  an  account  of  the  stars  "  —  some 
practical  almanac,  probably,  in  a  shape  to  be  easily 
remembered ;  and  there  was  a  journal  in  verse  also, 
wi'itten  on  tiie  return  from  Munda.  Of  all  the  lost 
writings,  however,  the  most  to  be  regretted  is  the 


How  Ccesar  should  he  estimated.  647 

"  Anti-Cato."  After  Cato's  death  Cicero  published 
a  panegyric  upon  him.  To  praise  Cato  was  to  con- 
demn Caesar  ;  and  Csesar  replied  with  a  sketch  of  the 
Martyr  of  Utica  as  he  had  himself  known  him.  The 
pamphlet,  had  it  survived,  would  have  shown  how  far 
Caesar  was  able  to  extend  the  forbearance  so  conspic:i- 
ous  in  his  other  writings  to  the  most  respectable  and 
the  most  inveterate  of  his  enemies.  The  verdict  of 
fact  and  the  verdict  of  literature  on  the  great  contro* 
versy  between  them  have  been  summed  up  in  the 
memorable  line  of  Lucan  — 

Yictrix  caasa  Deis  placuit,  sed  victa  Catoni. 

Was  Cato  right,  or  were  the  gods  right  ?  Perhaps 
both.  There  is  a  legend  that  at  the  death  of  Charles 
V.  the  accusing  angel  appeared  in  heaven  with  a 
catalogue  of  deeds  which  no  advocate  could  palliate 
—  countries  laid  desolate,  cities  sacked  and  burnt, 
lists  of  hundreds  of  thousands  of  widows  and  children 
brought  to  misery  by  the  political  ambition  of  a  single 
man.  The  evil  spirit  demanded  the  offender's  soul, 
and  it  seemed  as  if  mercy  itself  could  not  refuse  him 
the  award.  But  at  the  last  moment  the  Supreme 
Judge  interfered.  The  Emperor,  He  said,  had  been 
sent  into  the  world  at  a  peculiar  time,  for  a  peculiar 
purpose,  and  was  not  to  be  tried  by  the  ordinary 
rules.  Titian  has  painted  the  scene  :  Charles  kneel- 
ing before  the  Throne,  with  the  consciousness,  as  be- 
came him,  of  human  infirmities,  written  upon  his 
countenance,  yet  neither  afraid  nor  abject,  relying  in 
absolute  faith  that  the  Judge  of  all  mankind  would 
do  right. 

Of  Caesar  too  it  may  be  said  that  he  came  into  the 
world  at  a  special  time  and  for  a  special  object.    The 


548  Ccesar. 

old  religions  were  dead,  from  the  Pillars  of  Hercules 
to  the  Euphrates  and  the  Nile,  and  the  principles  on 
which  human  society  had  been  constructed  were  dead 
also.  There  remained  of  spiritual  conviction  only 
the  common  and  human  sense  of  justice  and  moral- 
ity; and  out  of  this  sense  some  ordered  system  of 
government  had  to  be  constructed,  under  which  quiet 
men  could  live  and  labor  and  eat  the  fruit  of  their 
industry.  Under  a  rule  of  this  material  kind  there 
can  be  no  enthusiasm,  no  chivalry,  no  saintly  aspira- 
tions, no  patriotism  of  the  heroic  type.  It  was  not 
to  last  forever.  A  new  life  was  about  to  dawn  for 
mankind.  Poetry,  and  faith,  and  devotion  were  to 
spring  again  out  of  the  seeds  which  were  sleeping  in 
the  heart  of  humanity.  But  tbe  life  which  is  to  en- 
dure grows  slowly ;  and  as  the  soil  must  be  prepared 
before  the  wheat  can  be  sown,  so  before  the  Kingdom 
of  Heaven  could  throw  up  its  shoots  there  was  needed 
a  kingdom  of  this  world  where  the  nations  were 
neither  torn  in  pieces  by  violence  nor  were  rushing 
after  false  ideals  and  spurious  ambitions.  Such  a 
kingdom  was  the  Empire  of  the  Caesars  —  a  kingdom 
where  peaceful  men  could  work,  think,  and  speak  as 
they  pleased,  and  travel  freely  among  provinces  ruled 
for  the  most  part  by  Gallios  who  protected  life  and 
property,  and  forbade  fanatics  to  tear  each  other  in 
pieces  for  their  religious  opinions.  ''  It  is  not  lawful 
for  us  to  put  2A\j  man  to  death,"  was  the  complaint 
of  the  Jewish  priests  to  the  Roman  governor.  Had 
Europe  and  Asia  been  covered  with  independent  na- 
tions, each  with  a  local  religion  represented  in  its 
ruling  powers,  Christianity  must  have  been  stifled  in 
its  cradle.  If  St.  Paul  had  escaped  the  Sanhedrim  at 
Jerusalem,  he  would  have  been  torn  to  pieces  by  the 


The  Kingdom  of  this  World,  549 

silversmiths  at  Epliesus.  The  appeal  to  Caesar's 
judgment-seat  was  the  shield  of  his  mission,  and  alone 
made  possible  his  success. 

And  this  spirit,  which  confined  government  to  its 
simplest  duties,  while  it  left  opinion  unfettered,  was 
especially  present  in  Julius  Csesar  himself.  From 
cant  of  all  kinds  he  was  totally  free.  He  was  a  friend 
of  the  people,  but  he  indulged  in  no  enthusiasm  for 
liberty.  He  never  dilated  on  the  beauties  of  virtue, 
or  complimented,  as  Cicero  did,  a  Providence  in  which 
he  did  not  believe.  He  was  too  sincere  to  stoop  to 
unreality.  He  held  to  the  facts  of  this  life  and  to 
his  own  cor.victions ;  and  as  he  found  no  reason  for 
supposing  shat  there  was  a  life  beyond  the  grave  he 
did  not  pretend  to  expect  it.  He  respected  the  re- 
ligion of  the  Roman  State  as  an  institution  estab- 
lished by  the  laws.  He  encouraged  or  left  unmolested 
the  creeds  and  practices  of  the  uncounted  sects  or 
tribes  who  were  gathered  under  the  eagles.  But  his 
own  writings  contain  nothing  to  indicate  that  he  him- 
self had  any  religious  belief  at  all.  He  saw  no  evi- 
dence that  the  gods  practically  interfered  in  human 
affairs.  He  never  pretended  that  Jupiter  was  on  his 
side.  He  thanked  his  soldiers  after  a  victory,  but  he 
did  not  order  Te  Deums  to  be  sung  for  it ;  and  in  the 
absence  of  these  conventionalisms  he  perhaps  showed 
more  real  reverence  than  he  could  have  displayed  by 
the  freest  use  of  the  formulas  of  pietism. 

He  fought  his  battles  to  establish  some  tolerable 
degree  of  justice  in  the  government  of  this  world  ; 
and  he  succeeded,  though  he  was  murdered  for  doing 
it. 

Strange  and  startling  resemblance  between  the  fate 
of  the  founder  of  the  kingdom  of  this  world  and  of 


650  CcBsar. 

the  Founder  of  the  kingdom  not  of  this  world,  for 
which  the  first  was  a  preparation.  Each  was  de- 
nounced for  making  himself  a  king.  Each  was  ma- 
ligned as  the  friend  of  publicans  and  sinners ;  each 
was  betrayed  by  those  whom  he  had  loved  and  cared 
for  ;  each  was  put  to  death ;  and  Csesar  also  was  be- 
lieved to  have  risen  again  and  ascended  into  heaven 
and  become  a  divine  being. 


The   best   Biography   of  the    Greatest   of  the   Romans. 


G^SAR:     A    Sketch 

BY 
JAMES   ANTHONY   FROUDE,  M.A. 


One   vol.,    8vo,   cloth,  with    a   Steel   Portrait   and    a   Slap. 
Price,  $2.50. 


There  is  no  historical  writer  of  our  time  who  can  rival  Mr.  Froude  in  vivid 
delineation  of  character,  grace  and  clearness  of  style,  and  elegant  and  solid 
scholarship.  In  his  Life  of  Ccesar,  all  these  qaalities  appear  in  their  fullest 
perfection,  resulting  in  a  fascinating  narrative  which  will  be  read  with  keen 
dslight  by  a  multitude  of  readers,  and  will  enhance,  if  possible,  Mr.  Froude's 
brilliant  reputation. 


CRITICAL    NOTICES. 

*•  The  book  is  charmingly  written,  and,  on  the  whole,  wisely  written.  There  are  many 
admirable,  really  noble,  passages  ;  there  are  hundreds  of  pages  which  few  living  men 
could  match.  *  *  *  The  political  life  of  Caesar  is  explained  with  singular  lucidity, 
and  with  what  seems  to  us  remarkable  fairness.  The  horrible  condition  of  Roman 
society  under  the  rule  of  the  magnates  is  painted  with  startling  power  and  brilliance  of 
coloring. — Atlantic  Mo7tthly. 

"  Mr.  Froude's  latest  work,  "  Caesar,"  is  affluent  of  his  most  distinctive  traits. 
Nothing  that  he  has  written  is  more  brilliant,  more  incisive,  more  interesting.  *  *  * 
He  combines  into  a  compact  and  nervous  narrative  all  that  is  known  of  the  personal, 
social,  political,  and  military  life  of  Cassar  ;  and  with  his  sketch  of  Csesar,  includes  other 
brilliant  sketches  of  the  great  men,  his  friends  or  rivals,  who  contemporaneously  with 
him  formed  the  principal  figures  in  the  Roman  world." — Harper's  Monthly. 

"This  book  is  a  most  fascinating  biography,  and  is  by  far  the  best  account  of  Julius 
Caesar  to  be  found  in  the  English  language." — London  Standard, 

"  It  is  the  best  biography  of  the  greatest  of  the  Romans  we  have,  and  It  is  in  some 
respects  Mr.  Froude's  best  piece  of  historical  writing." — Hartford  Courant. 

Mr.  Froude  has  given  the  public  the  best  of  all  recent  books  on  the  life,  charactes- 
and  career  of  Julius  Caesar."— /%z7a.  Eve.  Bulletin. 


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FROM  THE  EARLIEST  TIME  TO  THE  PERIOD  OF  ITS  DECLINE. 

By  Dr.  THEODOR  MOMMSEU. 

Translated,  with  the  author's  sanction  and  additions,  by  the  Rev.  W.  P.  Dickson,  Regius 
Professor  of  Biblical  Criticism  in  the  University  of  Glasgow,  late  Classical  Examiner  of 
the  University  of  St.  Andrews.  With  an  introduction  by  Dr.  Leonhard  Schmitz,  and 
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REPRmTED  FROM  THE  REVISED  LONDON  EDITION. 
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Dr.  Mommsen  has  long  been  known  and  appreciated  through  his  re- 
searches into  the  languages,  laws,  and  institutions  of  Ancient  Rome  and 
Italy,  as  the  most  thoroughly  versed  scholar  now  living  in  these  depart- 
ments of  historical  investigation.  To  a  wonderfully  exact  and  exhaustive 
knowledge  of  these  subjects,  he  unites  great  powers  of  generalization,  a 
vigorous,  spirited,  and  exceedingly  graphic  style  and  keen  analytical  pow- 
ers, which  give  this  history  a  degree  of  interest  and  a  permanent  value 
possessed  by  no  other  record  of  the  decline  and  fall  of  the  Roman  Com- 
monwealth. "Dr.  Morflmsen's  work,"  as  Dr.  Schmitz  remarks  in  the 
introduction,  "  though  the  production  of  a  man  of  most  profound  and  ex- 
tensive learning  and  knowledge  of  the  world,  is  not  as  much  designed  for 
the  professional  scholar  as  for  intelligent  readers  of  all  classes  who  take 
an  interest  in  the  history  of  by-gone  ages,  and  are  inclined  there  to  seek 
information  that  may  guide  them  safely  through  the  perplexing  mazes  of 
modern  history." 

CRITICAL  NOTICES. 

**  A  work  of  the  very  highest  merit ;  its  learning  is  exact  and  profound ;  its  narrative  full 
of  genius  and  skill ;  its  descriptions  of  men  are  admirably  vivid.  We  wish  to  place  on 
record  our  opinion  that  Dr.  Mommsen's  is  by  far  the  best  history  of  the  Decline  and  Fall 
of  the  Roman  Commonwealth."  —  London  Times. 

*'  This  is  the  best  history  of  the  Roman  Republic,  taking  the  work  on  the  whble  —  the 
author's  complete  mastery  of  his  subject,  the  variety  of  his  gifts  and  acquirements,  his 
graphic  power  in  the  delineation  of  national  and  individual  character,  and  the  vivid  interest 
which  he  inspires  in  every  portion  of  his  book.  He  is  without  an  equal  in  his  own  sphere." 
—Edi7iburgh  Review. 

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COX,  M.  A.,  Author  of  the  "  Aryan  Mythology,"  "  A  History  of 

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The  EARLY  ROMAN  EMPIRE.  From  the  Assassination  of  Julius  Cassar  to  the 
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**Two  as   Interestlner   and  valuable   books   of  travel   as   have 
been  published  in  this  country."  Niw  York  Express. 

JDR.  FIELD'S  TRAVELS  HOUND   THE  WORLD, 


I. 

FROM  THE  LAKES  OF  KILLABNEY  TO  THE 

GOLDEN  HORN. 

II. 
FROM   EGYPT    TO    JAPAN. 


By   HENRY    M.    FIELD,    D.D.,  Editor    of  the    N.  Y.    Evangelist. 
Each  1  vol.  12mo.     Cloth,  gilt  top,  uniform  In  style,  $2. 

CRITICAIi    NOTICES. 

By  George  Ripley,  LL.D.,  in  the  New  York  Tribune. 

Fe*^  recent  travellers  combine  so  many  qualities  that  are  adapted  to  command  the 
Interest  and  sympathy  of  the  public.  While  he  indulges,  to  its  fullest  extent,  the  charac- 
teristic American  curiosity  with  regard  to  foreign  lands,  insisting  on  seeing  every  object 
of  interest  with  his  own  eyes,  shnnking  from  no  peril  or  difficulty  in  pursuit  of  infor- 
mation— climbing  mountains,  descending  mines,  exploring  pyramids,  with  no  sense  of 
Batiety  or  weariness,  he  has  also  made  a  faithful  study  of  the  highest  authorities  on 
the  different  subjects  of  his  narrative,  thus  giving  solidity  and  depth  to  his  descriptions, 
without  sacrificing  their  facility  or  grace. 

From  the  TXevr  York  Observer. 

The  present  volume  comprises  by  far  the  most  novel,  romantic,  and  interesting  part 
of  the  Journey  [Round  the  World],  and  the  story  of  it  is  told  and  the  scenes  are  painted 
by  the  hand  of  a  master  of  the  pen.  Dr.  Field  is  a  veteran  traveller ;  he  knows  well 
what  to  see,  and  (which  is  still  more  impoitant  to  the  reader)  he  knows  well  what  to 
describe  and  how  to  do  it. 

By  Ghas.  Dudley  Warner,  in  the  Hartford  Courant. 

It  is  thoroughly  entertaining;  the  reader's  interest  is  never  allowed  to  flag  ;  the 
author  carries  us  forward  from  land  to  land  with  uncommon  vivacity,  enlivens  the  way 
with  a  good  humor,  a  careful  observation,  and  treats  all  peoples  with  a  refreshing  liberality. 

From  Rev.  Dr.  R.  S.  Storrs. 

It  is  indeed  a  charming  book — full  of  fresh  information,  picturesque  description,  and 
thoughtful  studies  of  men,  countries,  and  civilizations. 

From  Prof.  Ros^vell  D.  Hitchcock,  D.D. 

In  this  second  volume,  Dr.  Field,  I  think,  has  surpassed  himself  in  the  first,  and 
this  is  saying  a  good  deal.  In  both  volumes  the  editorial  instinct  and  habit  are  conspic- 
uous. Dr.  Prime  has  said  that  an  editor  should  have  six  senses,  the  sixth  being 
*'a  sense  of  the  ««/^r«//«jf."     Dr.  Field  has  this  to  perfection.     ♦     *     ♦ 

From  the  Nevr  York  Herald. 

It  would  be  impossible  by  extracts  to  convey  an  adequate  idea  of  the  variety, 
abundance,  or  picturesque  freshness  of  these  sketches  of  travel,  without  copying  a  great 
part  of  the  book. 

Rev.  Wm.  M.  Taylor,  D.D.,  In  the  Christian  at  Work. 

Dr.  Field  has  an  eye,  if  we  may  use  a  photographic  illustration,  with  a  great  deal  o{ 
conodion  in  it,  so  that  he  sees  very  clearly.  He  knows  also  how  to  describe  just  those 
things  in  the  difFsrent  places  visited  by  him  which  an  intelligent  man  wants  to  know 

About 


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Army  Life  in  Russia. 

By    F.    V.    GREENE, 

Lieutenant  of  Engineers,  United  States  Army, 

Late  Military  Attache  to  the   U.  S.  Legation  in  St.  Petersburg,  ntid  author  of 
"  The  Russian  Army  and  its  Campaigns  in  Turkey  in  1877-78." 


One  Volume,  12mo,     ....    $1.50. 

Lieutenant  Greene's  opportunities  for  general  as  well  as  technical 
observation  while  with  the  Russian  army  in  Turkey  were  such  as  have 
perhaps  never  fallen  to  any  other  student  of  the  war.  The  story  of  this 
personal  experience  is  embodied  in  this  volume,  which  contains  most 
vigorous  and  vivid  descriptions  of  battle  scenes,  in  the  chapters  on  the 
<Shipka  Pass,  Plevna,  and  in  the  very  strong  and  excellent  chapter  on  the 
winter  campaign  across  the  Balkans  with  Gourko.  The  chapters  on  the 
Tsar  and  the  Russian  generals,  and  the  sections  devoted  to  the  Russian 
soldier,  to  St.  Petersburg,  and  the  army  life  of  the  Russian  at  home,  are  of 
absorbing  interest. 


"  His  sketches  are  excellently  well  done,  graphic,  evidently  not  exaggerated,  and 
very  readaV)le.  It  is  a  book  that  will  be  read  with  pleasure,  and  one  that  contains  a 
great  deal  of  information." — Hart/ord  Courant. 

"  This  volume  is  in  every  way  an  admirable  picture  of  army  life  in  Russia.  It  is 
clear,  concise,  discriminating,  and  often  very  picturesque.  The  author,  besides  pos- 
sessing an  excellent  style,  is  extremely  modest,  and  there  are  very  few  books  of  tavel 
in  which  the  first  person  is  kept  so  absolutely  in  the  background." — International 
Review. 

"  Lieutenant  Greene  writes  in  a  soldierly  way,  unaffected,  straightforward,  and 
graphic,  and,  though  he  has  a  keen  eye  for  the  picturesque,  never  sacrifices  to  rhetoric 
the  absolute  truthfulness  so  eminently  to  be  desired  in  a  narrative  of  this  sort. — Nenv 
York  World. 

"  He  was  with  the  "Russian  army  throughout  the  campaign,  enjoying  perfect  free- 
dom of  movement,  having  every  opportunity  to  visit  the  points  of  greatest  activity,  and 
to  see  the  operations  of  greatest  moment,  in  company  with  the  officers  who  conducted 
them.  His  book  is,  therefore,  for  all  the  purposes  of  ordinary  readers,  a  complete  and 
satisfactory  history  of  the  war,  founded  upon  intimate  personal  knowledge  of  its  events, 
and  of  its  spirit.  It  is  a  work  of  the  rarest  interest  and  of  unusual  merit." — Neiv  York 
Evening  Post. 

"It  is  most  fortimate  for  the  reputation  of  our  country  and  our  army  that  we  had 
such  an  officer  to  send  to  the  far-away  land  of  Turkey  in  Europe,  and  most  creditable  to 
our  War  Department  that  it  sent  such  a  man.  His  book  deseves  to  be  universally  read, 
and  we  are  sure  that  no  person  whom  these  lines  may  lead  to  purchase  it  will  fail  to 
rejoice  that  they  have  been  written." — The  Nation. 


*.x,*  For    sale  by    all   booksellers,  or    sent,  post-paid,  upon    receipt   of 
price,  by 

CHARLES   SCRIBNER'S   SONS,  Publishers, 

743  AND  745  Broadway,  New  York. 


AUTHORIZED  AMERICAN  EDITIONS. 

THE  HISTORY  OF  ENGLAND, 

From  the   Fall  of  "Woolsey  to  the  Death  of  Elizabeth. 


THE  COMPLETE  WORK  IN  TWELVE  VOLUMES, 


By  JAMES   ANTHONY   FROUDE,  M.  A. 


Mr.  Froude  is  a  pictorial  historian,  and  his  skill  in  description  and  full- 
ness of  knowledge  make  his  work  abound  in  scenes  and  passages  that  are 
almost  new  to  the  general  reader.  We  close  his  pages  with  unfeigned  re- 
gret, and  we  bid  him  good  speed  on  his  noble  mission  of  exploring  the 
sources  of  English  history  in  one  of  its  most  remarkable  periods.  —  Brif- 
ish  Quarterly  Review. 

THE  NEW  LIBRARY  EDITION'. 

Extra  cloth,  gilt  top,  and  uniform  in  general  style  with  the  re-issue  of 
Momnisen's  Rome  and  Curtius's  Greece.  Complete  in  12  vols.  i2mo, 
in  a  box.     Sold  only  in  sets.     Price  per  set,  $18.00. 

Note.  7"/!!^  old  Library,  Chelsea,  and  Popular  Editions  will  be  discontinued.  A  fetv 
sets  and  single  volumes  can  still  be  supplied. 


SHORT  STUDIES  ON  GREAT  SUBJECTS. 

POPULAR   EDITION.    Three  vols.  i2mo,  cloth,  per  vol. .  .$1.50 
LIBRARY   EDITION.     Three  vols.  cr.  8vo,  cloth,  per  vol.  .$2.50 


THE  ENGLISH  IN   IRELAND 

During  the  Eighteenth  Century. 
Three  vols.  cr.  8vo.     Price  per  vol $2.50 


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The  Origin  and  Growth  of  Religion,  as  Illustrated  br 

THE  RELIGION  OF 

ANCIENT  EGYPT. 

By  P.  LE    PAGE    RENOUF. 

(T/te  Hibbert  Lectures  for  iSjg.J 


One  volume,   12mo,      --_-_-»       $1.50 

M.  Le  Page  Renouf's  great  reputation  as  an  Egyptologist  led  to  his 
selection  to  deliver  the  second  course  of  the  already  celebrated  Hibbert 
series.  His  lectures  are  the  fit  companions  of  Professor  Miiller's,  both  in 
learning  and  in  interest.  The  glimpses  laboriously  gained  by  the  aid  of 
long  undeciphered  hierogflyphics  into  one  of  the  most  mystical  and  profound 
of  all  the  ancient  beliefs,  have  always  had  a  special  fascination  ;  and  the 
time  has  now  come  w^hen  it  is  possible  to  join  their  results  into  a  fairly 
complete  picture.  Done  as  this  is  by  M.  Renouf,  with  a  certain  French 
vividness  and  clearness,  it  has  a  very  unusual,  and,  indeed,  unique  interest. 


CRITICAL    NOTICES. 

"  The  narrative  is  so  well  put  together,  the  chain  of  reasoning  and 
inference  so  obvious,  and  the  illustration  so  apt,  that  the  general  reader 
can  go  through  it  with  unabated  interest." — Hartford  Post. 

"  No  one  can  rise  from  reading  this  book,  in  which,  by  the  way,  the 
author  is  careful  about  drawing  his  conclusions,  without  having  increased 
respect  for  the  religion  of  ancient  Egypt,  and  hardly  less  than  admiration 
for  its  ethical  system." — T^e  Chiirchman. 

"These  lectures  are  invaluable  to  students  of  Egyptology,  and  as  the 
religion  of  ancient  Egypt  stands  alone  and  unconnected  with  other  religions, 
except  those  which  have  been  modified  by  it,  itself  being  apparently  original 
and  underived,  they  should  be  highly  interesting  to  all  students  of  religious 
history.  .  .  .  It  is  impossible  in  a  brief  notice  to  convey  an  adequate 
idea  of  Professor  Renouf  s  admirable  lectures." — N.  Y.  World. 

"  The  present  work  forms  a  remarkably  intelligent  and  acutely  critical 
contribution  to  the  history  of  the  origin  and  growth  of  religion,  as  illustrated 
by  the  religion  of  ancient  Egypt.  As  a  specialist.  Professor  Renouf  is  able 
to  bring  forth  much  information  not  ordinarily  accessible  to  the  general 
reader,  and  this  he  does  in  such  a  carefully  digested  form  as  to  make  the 
work  entertaining  and  instructive  in  the  highest  degree." — Boston  Courier. 


***  ^°^    ^'^^^    ^y    ^^^   booksellers,   or  sent,   post-paid,  upon    receipt   of 
price,  by 

CHARLES   SCRIBNER'S  SONS,  Publishers, 

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